DARK KNIGHT: PARALLELS- Volume 4 of the DARK KNIGHT Saga
by MegaSam777
Summary: In Gotham, something dark is rising. Crime lord Black Mask is conquering organized crime and Batman is facing pressure like never before. Roman Sionis' syndicate faces a threat and threatens all when he makes a deal with a dangerous party to take out Black Mask. In a time of desperation, Batman will gain two young partners who force him to change his way and confront his dark past.
1. INTRO

**COMING MID-2015!**

* * *

In another exciting teaser for the continuation of the JUSTICE UNIVERSE comes the next adventure for the Batman! In this crime-centered story, you will see Batman face what he originally was created for, kicking gangsters' butts and taking down organized crime in Gotham City. This story is more or less a more grounded reboot almost of the DARK KNIGHT series. While everything that has come to pass still exists, it's time to let Batman become the dark vigilante in the shadows rather than the hero who goes up against fantastical villains.

The main villain will be the Black Mask, a crime lord who will probably become the most destructive person in Batman's life, save for Ra's al Ghul. This Black Mask is different, very different. As hinted throughout the first three DARK KNIGHT adventures, the Black Mask has been building his reputation slowly and is lurking in the shadows. But...(in case you read your comics and know the history) Roman Sionis and Black Mask are _two_ different people in my universe. They share similarities as they are both gangsters but they are rivals in this story. Why the change? I guess I just wanted to change up the history and give the readers something fresh rather than something memorable to the point where the plot is predictable.

So, to change those possible predictions, along with the Black Mask, another group of villains will be showing up to increase the stakes. If any of you missed the drama and intrigue of the League of Assassins... let's just say that they'll be influencing the plot in a big way.

Speaking of that, I'm assuming you all know that Dick Grayson will finally show up. And don't worry. He won't be a sweatsuit-prototype Robin-in-training throughout the book. He becomes who we love and will have the same personality. But... the origin will not be the traditional circus parent tragedy as I think it has been done to death. I don't want to spoil it but I will tell you that the origin will be radically different and it will give Dick a more personal story on why he wants to fight crime. And this story will also expose my own opinions on the whole 'adoptive kid' act that Bruce pulls to keep Dick. There will be a different but equally senseful reason for how the two can operate together. I'm excited for this story and I can't wait for all of you to see the Dynamic Duo for the first time.

As for the title, Paralells; this refers to the fact that as seen at the end of DARK KNIGHT: FROZEN ENIGMAS, Harry Strange uncovers a hidden memory Bruce had kept hidden for a long time. Jason Todd. For those who read the comics, Jason Todd was the second Robin after Dick Grayson and throughout his career, he showed that he had a temper and was more aggressive than Dick. Mirrored events will bring back memories of Bruce's time away and the mistakes he made that led to the death of a young teenager. I'm changing the known canon of Batman's universe but I swear, I'm respecting the other stories and am only trying to bring something new to something that is something so well loved.

* * *

So, yeah. I'm hoping this next story will really bring the fanbase because people tend to really like Robin. Robin himself was never a favorite character of mine because I couldn't imagine the idea of an eight year-old boy bouncing around in tights and fighting crime. Let's just say that for this version of Dick Grayson, he'll evolve as the series goes on along with Barbara Gordon.

This story is all about how Bruce learned to accept help and create the Bat-Family. Not only will Robin and Barbara Gordon have bigger roles, expect to find out more about Gordon's past (and a possible promotion?), Harvey Dent's character, how the world reacts to the Dark Knight, and more depth into these villains than ever before. It will be fun, action-packed, full of excitement and twists that no one will see coming. This is probably going to be the best crime story I'll ever write.

I hope you enjoy...

**-MS777**


	2. Dropoff

The snow flurries caused a soft and silent fall on Gotham. The docks were covered with a thin layer of white and when his foot crunched into the deck of the cargo ship, Landon Hunter felt that something was off about the deal. A two million dollar payload, yes. But were there risks? Yes. His team's cargo was some of the rarest yet most illegal product in the entire world. Hunter pulled out his necklace and looks at the tip of the rhino horn connected to a chain lace. He rubbed the soft ivory and sighed, staring out into the city of Gotham. He had grown up in Keystone but spent most summers in Gotham with his uncle. Uncle Frankie was the man who led Hunter to his life as a rhino horn smuggler. All it took was an exotic trip to the African wilderness when he was 16 and the duffel bag full of cash Uncle Frankie received at the end of their trip.

He grabbed the chipped-paint railing of the cargo ship and leaned over the side, sniffing the metallic air and seeing a group of people moving on the concrete dock below. Hunter looked at the five parka-wearing individuals and saw the expensive car they had just gotten out of. The scene looked the same as always. The docks were empty and only sounds of distant traffic wailed. Hunter lifted up his heavy collar on his jacket and checked his watch. It was 2:00 a.m. exactly. He turned around to walk into the control room and saw his associate from Africa, Tadaaki giving a nod and a small yet nervous smile.

"Are we ready for dropoff?" Hunter asked.

"Yes." the African replied with a heavy accent.

"How much product are we sending out tonight exactly? Horn and the speed?" Hunter said, shaking the snow off of his leather jacket and walking to his partner.

Tadaaki looked to the sky and mouthed the calculations fluttering around his head.

"Around 15 million. We can't touch the drugs though. Mask gave us detailed instructions. Got that?" Tadaaki replied.

Hunter backed up sarcastically and gave a small laugh. He held his hands up and shook his head, laughing off the threatening statement. He slapped Tadaaki's shoulder and shook it hard.

"What's with the attitude, man? You act like I'm some snitch."

"It's not that." Tadaaki said, turning his head and looking out into the illuminated skyline.

Snow blew by, caused by a fierce wind and making the African shiver hard. Hunter took out his carton of cigarettes and hit the bottom of the pack, knocking one out of place and into his fingers. He pulled out the lighter from an inside pocket of his jacket and lit the cigarette, breathing in the deep menthol taste and blowing out the smoke in one long stream. He placed the cigarette between his lips and looked at his partner as the men by the car flicked their high-beams on, indicating the sale was on.

"The Black Mask. Our buyer? He's rumored to be in some deep shit. Guess you could say I'm just worried. Unpredictable I've heard."

Hunter took another long drag from the cigarette and tapped some of the ashes into the waters of Gotham Harbor below. He looked at his partner and fondled the rhino horn again, staring at the ivory markings created by nature and rubbing the smooth texture. He saw the men look up at them on the deck and wave briefly. Hunter replied by giving a wave in response, seeing the man in the passenger seat get out with a silver case in one hand.

"It'll be fine. Two million is ours. We're making more than most of the bankers in this city. It's fine, man." Hunter said, sliding his hand across the railing and letting snow flail around in the wind and scatter.

Hunter banged on the door of the steering room and woke up his six other partners in the trade. The African sailors assigned to the ship were ignored by Hunter and Tadaaki, only shadows who steered the ship and turned a blind eye toward any of the smugglers' actions. One sailor ran across the deck, his stolen American baseball cap nearly falling off his head as he ran inside the engine room. He avoided a few crew members starting to unlock the trailer-sized crates and almost slipped on the floor, snow flying up in front of his feet as he ran across the corner and saw the lever he needed to activate. The young man grabbed the cold lever hard and slammed it down, hearing the electricity inside crackle and a red light blink on above the lever.

Back on the right side of the ship, the sleepy men rubbed their eyes and flicked each other in an effort to wake them up. One such man by the name of Roger Sash stood up from his chair and picked up his pistol sitting across from him. He stuck it inside the pocket of his windbreaker and walked out, making sure the rest of the men were joining him. The group walked out quickly, all hiding their various firepower inside their clothes. The snow crunched underneath their sneakers and boots, more snow quickly filling in the new spaces as the wind kicked up. The men in the parkas stood by the end of the large Lincoln and waited patiently as Hunter, Tadaaki, and Roger went down the stairs activate by the young sailor moments earlier. The angled bridge leading to the dock rocked gently in the wind and Hunter gripped the railing as the cigarette still hung by his lips. He greeted the leading man, a tall man with a thin face and skinny glasses with lenses smaller than his eye ridges. Hunter held out his hand and the other man gripped it, his leather gloves rubbing together and making that squeaky sound as Hunter gave a small closed-mouthed smile.

"Landon Hunter." he said simply.

"Arnold Wesker. Pleasure to meet you. I expect that your men are preparing the packages?" the man said.

Hunter nodded and pointed to the three blue cargo crates located at the right side of the cargo ship. Wesker looked at the crates and adjusted his glasses, seeing the multiple men putting large brown packages into a wheelbarrow. He gave a small smile and flicked a finger forward to the man who was sitting in the passenger seat. He walked forward, holding the silver case on its back and holding it in front of Hunter. Wesker flipped open the twin locks on the corners and opened the case, well over 10 stacks of 100 dollar bills taped up in a band that read: $10,000. Hunter took a step back and looked at Wesker's emotionless face. Tadaaki peeked his head over and saw the 100,000 dollars that lied in the case.

"I hope you have 20 more cases, sir. Our deal was two million for the rhino product." Hunter said, his voice becoming shaky.

Wesker put his head down and closed his eyes tight. He shut the case and signaled for the man to back up. He sighed and looked back at Hunter who took a long inhale of his burning cigarette before exhaling and flicking it onto the dock. Hunter crossed his arms and heard the men drop the wheelbarrow onto the ship bridge. He clapped his hands and got the men's attention. They stopped moving and stood there, relaxing their grip on the wheelbarrow and letting the wheel stay stationary on one of the many ridges of the bridge.

"We have three cases total. The details have changed, Mr. Hunter." Wesker said softly.

"300,000? That's barely enough to cover one horn! You're not going to con us out of this deal, do you understand?"

Wesker continued to stand without showing any emotion and the brisk wind made Hunter's black hair fly in his eyes. The wind shook the parkas the men wore and the silence that followed was deadly. Tadaaki felt the pistol that was snug in his pocket and was about to click the hammer back. Hunter stood in anger, feeling the loss of money pulsing through him as the men with the wheelbarrow were in complete fear.

"So..." Wesker said, turning his head and suddenly pulling out an SMG.

Hunter pulled out his pistol and Tadaaki did the same. All the men on board the ship dropped what they were doing and aimed at the five men backed up around the Lincoln. With his pistol aimed right at Wesker's head, Hunter's eye twitched and he watched as Wesker pointed the SMG at his chest.

"What are we going to do about this?"

"Give me what we came for. Two million dollars! Do you hear me? You don't understand what we went through to get this product! I risk prison for life!" Hunter yelled, his voice echoing across the empty docks.

Tadaaki's six-shooter was aimed for the man holding the case, who was now gripping an AR-15 rifle and aimed it at the men on the ship. Wesker reached in his pocket and pulled out a small flip-phone. He pressed one key on the numpad and the speed-dial gave an immediate response. Hunter struggled to hear the voice on the other end and could only see Wesker's head nodding.

"Yes. Got it." he said after a moment of silence. He closed the phone with one hand and put it back into his parka's pocket. Hunter waited to hear what would happen next. Wesker wiped snowflakes that had collected on his lenses and looked up at the cargo ship and the spilled rhino product on the bridge. Hunter readjusted his aim on Wesker's head and the man licked his lips, stepping toward the dealer and making him inch closer with the muzzle. Wesker held his hands up and gave Hunter a fake smile.

"Here's what we're going to do. We're going to se-." Wesker began before a man on his left was hit with an invisible object in the chest and with a mechanical whizzing sound, flew high into one of the large cargo cranes sat beside the docks.

The man screamed and his AR-15 fell to the ground as he flew twenty feet into the air and his back smacked into the crane before hanging off from the side. The men all pointed their guns to the injured man who was hanging and screaming in pain. He withered around and looked around, suddenly jerking in fear and pointing to a figure high up on another level of the crane system.

"It's the Batman!" he yelled.

All of the criminals looked up at the crane and in the light of the full moon, the frightening image of the bat-like creature was clearly seen and when it leaped from the high perch, the wind kicked up, providing the perfect ambiance of the Batman's arrival. A few of the men fired their weapons and Hunter looked at Tadaaki and nodded to the bridge. Wesker saw the two of them run toward the cargo ship and he chased after them while the rest of the men began to fire at the spot where the Batman was gliding through the air with his cape.

Tadaaki jumped onto the bridge and helped Hunter as they skipped three steps, hurrying to safety as the Batman touched on the dock floor, facing the four men of the Black Mask. They watched as the Batman swiftly moved between all the men, twisting their arms around, delivering mid-air kicks to their chest, and dodging every attack they threw at him. Then, Hunter looked in fear as Wesker was on the bridge as well and fired a dozen shots from his SMG, piercing the bridge and nearly hitting them. Tadaaki fired his six-shooter behind him as he held onto Hunter's jacket. Hunter fired a shot and it hit the railing of the bridge, metal bits flying off and making Wesker trip on one of the ridges.

"Landon! To the captain's room. Kevin placed a RPG there!" Tadaaki yelled over the sound of men's screams and gunshots.

Tadaaki shoved past one of the crewmates who ran away from Wesker's gunfire as the remaining men on the ship shot at the Batman on the docks. Hunter ran into the steering room and saw the RPG lying upwards against one corner of the room. He ran for it and saw Taadaki behind him, ducking as the window behind him shattered and bullets flew everywhere.

"Why do we need this?" Hunter asked.

"We can blow away the Mask's men and the Batman. Two birds with one stone!" Tadaaki said, grabbing the launcher and making sure the rocket was securely loaded inside.

The two of them ran back out onto the deck and saw the war unfolding. In between trading blows with the Batman, the Black Mask's men were firing back at the cargo ship and the rhino dealers returned the firepower with their own. Tadaaki pushed the rocket launcher up to his shoulder and closed one eye, focusing on the cluster of men fighting each other on the dock. He traced his finger over the trigger and was about to fire, seeing the Batman deliver a complicated move that involved punching one of them in his throat, chest, and groin area followed by flipping him over his back and slam into the ground. Just then, the launcher was misaligned by a bullet that hit the stock and he pressed the trigger accidentally, the rocket shooting out and flying across the dock. Hunter watched as smoke trailed behind it and it hit the side of a bulldozer, bouncing off and back toward the group of me fighting. He watched as the Batman grabbed the men and shoved them forward with a hard shove before kicking the rocket as far away as possible. It rolled across the dock until it exploded seconds later, fire and shrapnel hitting the Batman and making him fall down in pain. The men stood up and were surprised for a moment until Hunter's crew began firing again.

Hunter helped Tadaaki get on his feet and they watched the Batman stand up, his cape halfway gone and his back smoking. He was something more than human. The footage from Washington had shown that. He wasn't just a man. Whether it was his metahuman powers or his highly mechanized suit that somehow kept him alive, it was now clear to most of the world that the Batman was more than some psycho who dressed up like a bat. The two men looked at Wesker as he was now on the deck and fired the rest of his clip at them. They ducked and ran to the next corner, one of the innocent crewmen getting shot in the head. Hunter was grazed in the shoulder and held his bleeding arm as Tadaaki pulled out his pistol and handed it to his partner.

"What are you doing?" Hunter asked as Tadaaki got a running start against the wall, stretching his feet.

"I'm taking this guy out. Freak's gotta go!"

Tadaaki ran at full speed, colliding with Wesker as he crossed the corner and the two of them flew off the railing. Hunter ran after them, seeing one of Tadaaki's hands gripping the railing while Wesker crawled along the concrete ground of the dock over thirty feet below. Tadaaki used all of his strength to lift himself up and grabbed Hunter's free hand before a bullet hit him in the back and he jerked back. With a sharp grunt, he slipped from Hunter's grasp and fell, his feet squeaking against the metal hull of the ship before the Batman appeared from nowhere and saved him from a violent end on the pavement. Hunter watched as the Batman grabbed Tadaaki by his jacket and slammed him into the ground, placing a thick pair of black cable ties around his wrists and feet before pulling out a gun-like object from his belt and firing near Hunter. Hunter screamed in fear and ducked, sparks flying as the bullet hit near his head. Suddenly, he heard a sharp whirling sound and looked up to see a cable connecting the gun to the bullet. When the Batman's foot collided into Hunter's head, that's when he realized it wasn't a bullet.

Through his blurred vision, Landon Hunter could see the Batman zoom around the ship, dodging gunfire and taking out the remaining men. Crates were busted apart as Hunter's men were thrown across the deck by the bat figure. He tried to stand up, seeing a bright flash of white as the head blow began to take its toll. He looked at the pistol on the floor next to him and picked it up, running across the deck to the bridge and seeing the crack crate with the rhino horn shipment. He opened the crate and took the giant vacuum-sealed bag that contained the middle section of a horn and ran down the stairs, holding on tight to the railing as he tried to escape the scene.

"Who are you working for?" he heard the Batman yell as he jumped off the bridge at the last five steps, hitting the concrete hard.

He ran over to Tadaaki and helped pulled out his small dagger on the side of his boot. He thanked his devotion to imitating every action hero he had watched when was younger, leading him to carry all sorts of hidden weapons and severed the cable ties after a few hard tugs of the dagger. Tadaaki shuddered as the gunfire continued on the cargo ship above and he took his pistol from Hunter's hands as they ran for the car.

"Get the cases! We need them!" Hunter yelled as he ran for the driver's seat, looking back and seeing in confusion as the Batman created a cloud of smoke beneath his feet and vanished within it.

The snowy winds became stronger and Tadaaki shivered as he picked up the case, inches away from the carrier who had a bloody nose. Tadaaki opened the passenger door and waited for Hunter to start it up. He watched as Hunter looked around frantically and slammed the dashboard in anger. Tadaaki looked at him with wide eyes and shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

"What's wrong?" he asked, wiping the snow that had collected on his face.

"I don't have the keys!" Hunter cried, turning around in his seat and looking out through the back window. He saw two men dangling from the side of the ship, hanging by wires unconscious. He whimpered in fear and looked at Tadaaki with a loud swallow. Tadaaki shook his head and suddenly flinched, jumping back in his seat and screaming loudly, aiming his gun for Hunter's head. Hunter back up and turned around, seeing the black symbol that stretched across the Batman's chest. He screamed and ducked, Tadaaki firing two shots from his six shooter and jumping out of the car as the Batman punched through the window. Glass flew in all directions and cut Hunter's face as he slammed his face against the steering wheel and felt a gloved hand against the back of his head.

Batman pulled him through the window and he flew out onto the concrete, his jacket shredding from the hard ground. Hunter groaned and looked at the Batman as he walked slowly toward him through the snowy landscape of destruction between the two bands of criminals. Hunter put his hands up and watched in horror as Batman picked him up and growled softly. His feet dangled and the Batman shook him hard, bringing his face close to his. Hunter could see the white covering over his eyes and the stubble on his face that made him look like a wild man rather than a legendary hero.

"Who... are you working for?" he said loudly.

"No one big! I don't know why you're doing this!" Hunter responded loudly.

"That's not what I asked. You're a rhino horn distributor. West African trade, I'm betting." the Batman muttered.

Hunter looked out of the corner of his eye and watched as Tadaaki quietly and slowly aimed his gun for the vigilante's back and fired a shot. The shot made the Batman jut forward and he dropped Hunter, turning around and pulling out a small knife-like object, shaped like a bat. Tadaaki looked at the object and prepared for another shot. The Batman flung the bat knife hard into Tadaaki's chest, making him fall to his knees in pain. The Batman hopped over the roof of the car and brought his foot down into the bat knife, the blade slicing farther into the flesh and making the African scream in tearful pain. The Batman picking him up and flung his body into the trunk of the car, knocking him out and shaking the Lincoln. The Batman moved around the trunk, his black cape fluttering in the icy winds as he walked back over to Hunter.

"Now... since you like _chopping _off the thing a rhino needs most, let's see what it's like for you." the Batman said quietly, picking up Hunter again and flipping out another bat knife.

He held the knife close to Hunter's pinky, flipping it out and holding it stationary as he took a deep breath.

"So... who do you work for?"

"No one. I made the deal myse-." Hunter began before the Batman shook his head and sliced off his pinky finger, breaking off the bone at the last second.

Hunter screamed in pain and blood poured from the wound. The blood trailed down his stub of a finger and onto the ground. Hunter saw his cut appendage roll onto the snow and soak it with a dark red cover. The Batman flipped the bat knife in between his middle fingers and pulled out a small torch, cauterizing the fresh wound with intense heat that made the rhino horn dealer scream loudly. The Batman pushed the torch back into his belt and gave the dealer an emotionless look.

"Who. Do. You. Work for?" he asked again.

"It's my own business, I swear!" Hunter yelled, crying in agony as the Batman sliced a thin line across his ring finger, about to cut if off entirely.

Batman jerked his collar and brought him nose-to-nose with him, looking at him with his dead, white eyes. Hunter swallowed loudly and waited for the Batman to continue his interrogation.

"Lie again and I'll remove two." the Batman muttered softly under his breath that blew as cloud vapor in Hunter's face.

"It _is_ my own business. I inherited it from my uncle. I was trying to organize a deal between my group of smugglers and the people of the Black Mask. I swear to God!"

The Batman nodded and by some slight of hand trickery, the bat knife was gone from his hand. Hunter felt the vigilante's grip loosen and he pulled out a small gauze pad before throwing Hunter to the ground. Hunter grunted and ripped open the package, pressing the gauze and antibiotic ointment inside it against the burnt wound. He held back screams of pain and looked at the Batman who let his cape envelope his whole body, completing his transformation of an unholy creature of the night.

"Black Mask. What do you know about him? Any associates that you know of?" the Batman asked.

"No. They wouldn't give us names. They're good at keeping secrets."

"Hm. What about their product of choice? What else was on the ship besides rhino horn and the meth?"

"Nothing. I'm sure of it." Hunter said.

The Batman looked at him and walked toward him, the bat knife flipping out again. Hunter crawled backward, snow kicking up as he pushed himself away from him. Batman stepped on his right foot, a sickening crack and pop heard as the boot twisted on his ankle. Hunter screamed in pain again, dropping the gauze pad and trying to stand up before crashing back down. Batman knelt down beside him and grabbed his throat, slamming his head back into the ground.

"Tell me the truth! I want to know!" the Batman yelled.

Hunter grunted in pain and once the Batman had stopped his attack, he looked at him and shook his head.

"I don't know... I... don't know." Hunter said a few moments later, out of breath and blood running down from a cut on his head.

The Batman let him go and watch him fall into unconsciousness. The Batman shook his head and stood up, softly touching his right temple and his eyes lighting up a bright white. He looked around the scene closely for a minute before nodding his head and clicking a button on his belt. A small beep followed and after ten seconds passed, a large aerial craft zoomed across the Gotham sky and hovered fifty feet from the ground. The Batman pulled out the gun device again and fired it up at the craft, feeling a sharp tug. He disconnected a square back piece of the device and slammed it into the middle of his belt. He turned the circular middle piece clockwise and suddenly, the Batman flew high into the air and into the craft before it revved its engines and flew off into the dark orange sky dotted with black, stringy clouds.

After he had left, all that remained was a man, a young black man who adjusted his dark blue toboggan from the roof of a nearby warehouse. He looked at the failed dead drop with his night vision binoculars again and gave a small smile.

"What _are _we going to about you?" he asked himself as he gave a big smile.

* * *

**DARK KNIGHT: PARALLELS**

**a story by MegaSam777**


	3. Spotlight

"As a matter of fact, here he is now, Lucius. Back from a Sunday drive." Alfred Pennyworth said through his phone as the roaring craft, nicknamed the Batwing shot through the massive waterfall that concealed the entrance to the large cave beneath the home of Gotham's billionaire, Bruce Wayne.

The Batwing circled around the metal helipad twice before the lower section of the wings flipped out and shot out hot air that helped cushion the craft as it landed on the pad. The Batman hopped out as the cockpit slid backward and he landed softly on the metal floor. The Batman looked at his butler standing beside the great design he had created almost two years before, a mass computer system that had several large monitors and nearly six million dollars in hardware invested inside it. As he walked across the metal bridge that connected the two sections of the cave, he removed his cowl, revealing his identity, Bruce Wayne. He saw that Alfred was on the phone and quickly walked over to his suit chamber near the computer. The chamber was concealed within the rock wall of the cave and Bruce pressed on a certain section of the wall, pushing in a square the size of his fist and watching the concealed part of the chamber slide to the right. In its place was a small area with a transparent plastic container that had several pegs on each side of the container which Bruce stepped into, securing himself to the pegs after placing his cowl on a small shelf. The plastic door closed and he held his breath, feeling the intense air pressure enter the chamber and separate the suit in a brief moment.

Bruce was left with only a slick black wetsuit-looking underwear that covered his whole body, save for his hands and feet. The door opened again and exhaled deeply, feeling the cool air across his body. He walked across the cold cave floor and pressed the rock in again, the suit chamber returning to concealment in the wall. He saw the frown across Alfred's face and began wondering what he was concerned about as he took the satellite phone from him.

"Hello, Mr. Fox. I'm glad you caught me. It's been a busy night." Bruce said.

"Alfred told me. I just wanted to let you know that your new 'night wear' is ready for shipment. When would you like delivery?" Fox asked.

"Whenever it suits you best. Now, I have a small party to attend to upstairs. Goodnight." Bruce replied.

"Have a good time." Fox said before hanging up. Bruce handed the phone back to Alfred and looked at him as they walked to the elevator across the cave. Alfred cleared his throat as he placed the cell phone in his jacket pocket and pressed the elevator button.

"What's wrong, tonight?" Bruce asked as they walked inside the door.

Alfred gave a small sigh and turned his weary eyes to his master. The butler held up his pinky finger and wiggled it around in his face.

"I got the message through. And I properly bandaged it after. Be happy for that."

"Was that really the right thing to do? Hm, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked.

Bruce shook his head and looked forward, not wanting to argue with his oldest friend. Ever since Bruce had begun his battle against crime in Gotham City, Alfred had always tried to be the shining light in the darkness that surrounded his master. His moral compass in a new world where morality was all but gone. He had become a father figure for Bruce in his time of need and tried to guide him and reduce the amount of brutality he showed the criminals on the battlefront. Alfred himself was no stranger to violence, being a soldier and mercenary, fighting in several wars and living with the guilt of ruining multitudes of lives.

"Those men... on a daily basis.. kill the last remaining rhinos. They sedate them, force them to the ground, and chop off their horns with machetes, leaving them to die in the wild. They deserve a hell of a lot cut off more than a small appendage. Better than another small appendage anyway. He'll always remember that... even if I can't find him again. Can we not do this tonight? I need to act happy for my first time out in the public spotlight since Julie's death." Bruce said as they flew up in the elevator and into the study in Wayne Manor.

"I understand. You need to instill fear in the hearts of these men, but not become them." Alfred said before exiting the elevator, leaving Bruce to collect himself.

* * *

"Wayne's got a nice house. Old chandeliers, stained glass angel windows, nice furnishings. How many hookers do you think have been over here?" a man around Bruce's age asked his date as he took a sip from his champagne glass.

"Knock it off, Tommy." the girl responded with a small chuckle, holding her purse and trying her best to look sexy amongst the hundreds of people inside the mansion.

"What? Back when we were good friends, he always had girls. When's the last time you've seen him without someone on his arm? Besides Julie, that is." Tommy said with a bit of malice in his voice.

"Hey. You know it wasn't him now. Let it go." the girl responded, bringing her voice down a level as she looked in her date's eyes.

Tommy rolled his eyes and drank the rest of the alcohol from the glass, his eyes widening as the Prince of Gotham showed up behind them and Bruce Wayne offered his hand. He was wearing a black tux that showed off his broad chest and shoulders, his thick hair slicked back with gel, the small tuffs of his bangs sticking up and showing his signature style. Bruce gave a big, white smile at Tommy and slowly approached his hand as Tommy sat the glass down on his table. He returned the offer and squeezed tight as he swallowed the rest of his drink.

"Bruce! How long has it been?" he asked.

"About 8 years, I think? Right after senior year ended." Bruce replied.

"Ah," Tommy said, pausing for a moment, his mind focused on an old memory.

Bruce nodded and let go of Tommy's hand, smiling at his date. She smiled back, brushing back her long black hair and offering her hand. Bruce took it softly and shook it, seeing the large red ruby on her middle finger. He glanced at it and saw her eyes meet his. He felt a familiar sense of déjà vu and was puzzled for a second.

"I'm sorry, but have we met before?" Bruce asked, trying to be as polite as possible.

"I was thinking the same thing." the woman replied, with a small laugh.

Tommy's smile became a gritted look of agitation and while Bruce and his date laughed, he rolled his eyes and began to walk away. Bruce noticed and gave her a brief nod before spinning around and following Tommy as he headed back to the bar section of the dining room.

"Hey, Tommy!" he said with his hand up loudly, calmly pushing his way from the socialites inside.

Tommy turned around and put on a fake smile.

"Sorry, I was just getting another drink, that's all. I'll be back. How do you think you know Selina, anyway?" he asked.

Bruce stopped for a minute at the sound of her name and quickly shook the thought away, walking over to the bar counter with his old friend.

"I'm not sure. But it's nothing like that, I swear. Anyways, I've wanted to talk with you ever since Julie was killed. Once I learned that _you _were the fiancé, I knew I needed to explain everything to you. No matter what hurtful it'd be. I've been waiting for this. I'm glad to see that you're doing good. Making 20 million a year isn't a bad gig for a hospital job." Bruce said, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, not unlike your dad making billions as chief medical director of Gotham General. But no, it's a good job. Get to meet all types of people. Ever think you'll need work done one day?" Tommy replied with a laugh.

"I'm pretty good right now I think and as you probably know, Dad never took a salary. The family fortune was enough."

"Well, whatever. This glass of tasty goodness is going to my head, I think. How was your Christmas, Bruce?"

"Just fine. After the terrorist attack in D.C., it got cut short. I set up a fund to help the victims of the bombings in Central City and D.C."

"I just gave old Alfred a check for 2 million to help the drive. He seems to be in good shape. How old is he now? 70?" Tommy laughed.

"No." Bruce chuckled.

"He's still young enough to kick our asses."

Tommy patted Bruce on the back and looked for his date, seeing that she was nowhere to be found. Bruce cleared his throat and shook his former friend's hand one more time before heading off into the party to greet other guests. He saw the captain of the GCPD, Jim Gordon with his wife. His mind went through all of their memories together, fighting side by side against the crime in Gotham City the past two years. Gordon wasn't aware of who the Batman really was and as far as Bruce could tell, Gordon didn't care much either. He waded through the crowd of people and held out his hand, meeting the ever-watchful eyes of the police captain.

"Captain Gordon! How are you?" Bruce said loudly as Gordon noticed him.

Sarah held her laugh in from Bruce's snobby attitude and waited as Gordon shook his hand with a tight grip.

"Mr. Wayne. Thank you for inviting me and my wife to the drive. It's a great thing you're doing."

"Ah! Are you kidding me? I should be thanking you for cleaning up this city! Whether or not the bat in black is involved, that doesn't matter, Jim. I'm glad to see you finally making your way up. You deserve it... honestly." Bruce replied.

"Sarah, Mr. Wayne worked with me and Bullock for a few months on the police reserves about six or seven years back. He was pretty enthusiastic. Do you remember that?" Gordon asked as Sarah shook Bruce's hand.

"Of course. You taught me how to find a criminal in any area." Bruce responded, pointing his finger across the room before winking at Sarah.

"Well... thank you, Bruce. Keep up the good work."

"You too, captain. Beautiful wife. Keep him straight." Bruce laughed.

As the billionaire disappeared into the crowd, Gordon downed his glass of ginger ale and burped quietly. Sarah looked at him and saw his suspicious eyes trailing Wayne. She smacked him gently on the chest, pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and laughing.

"What's with the look, Jim? Didn't like him winking at me?" she asked.

"No. It's not that. He's just so different from the kid I used to know. I remember hugging him as he watched his parents' bodies being hauled away. And now... look at him."

"I know, babe. But he's his own man. Without you there, I think things would have been a lot different."

"Yeah, I guess." Gordon grumbled.

"You better know. At least he's doing charity drives and such. Helping others instead of just helping himself." Sarah replied, playfully smacking him and pulling on his tie.

"I'm not talking about the money or the playboy act he pulls." he said quietly.

"What was that?" Sarah asked, leaning in closer.

"Nothing, honey. You want a shrimp ball?"


	4. Choose Your Poison

"Nice family. Who's the kid? Bruce Wayne has a kid?" Carver Malone asked, pointing to a picture frame of Bruce's late parents and his eight-year old self.

"No, retard! That's Wayne and his parents! The ones who got blasted at Crime Alley." the second gangster said, smacking Carver's hand and scoffing with embarrassment.

Roman Sionis clicked his tongue as he turned around in his chair, snapping his fingers loudly and signaling for his men to remain solemn beside the door to the library. He looked around, seeing the three-story bookshelves all around the room that was around the size of a basketball court. He sat in the chair in front of the main desk, Bruce's computer to his right and six books, all in different places of reading. He eyed the titles and was slightly impressed.

"This place is huge, boss? What do you think this room cost alone?" one of the gangsters asked.

"I don't know. More than you'll ever make." he replied.

Roman smiled as he scanned the contents of Wayne's desk. Besides the expensive computer and monitor to the right side of the slick wooden platform, he spotted a few files on Wayne Enterprises' various building contracts and blueprints for a new construction project. He saw the repeatedly dog-eared hardback of Edgar Allen Poe's short story collection and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein underneath it beside a table lamp, followed by books on historical medicine practices and mystical shamans of Northern Asia. Roman scoffed, shaking his head at the smart guy attempt. In what world would someone like Bruce Wayne read a book on ancient medicine? Roman grabbed a green peppermint candy cane from the mug on the desk and ripped the plastic off, beginning to crunch his teeth into the refreshing hard candy. He broke the cane in half and saw the expensive family portrait of Thomas Wayne's father and mother, with the young doctor on his father's knees, staring into his very soul.

He looked on the desk and saw an large box with a key stuck inside the lock. Roman opened it up and found a beautiful gold watch inside. He smiled and fiddled it around his fingers before taking off his own watch and whistling to Carver who was observing the stained-glass windows. Carver watched as Roman tossed him his old watch and snapped the gold one on. He made sure the time was right and slid down his sleeve in delight.

"Heh. Good taste, Wayne. Good taste." he laughed.

Footsteps were heard in the large and empty hall behind them and they suddenly stopped, prompting Roman to turn around in the seat and see the butler of the playboy. The butler was different than Roman expected. When heard the term 'butler', the cliched image popped up in his mind. The black-suited older gentleman with pearl-white gloves and a dish tray in his hand with the other firmly behind his back. But Bruce Wayne's butler would scare those old men away with his presence. For his older age, he was in good shape; a modern black vest over a white undershirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and thick-rimmed glasses that highlighted the scowl in his face. His graying hair was shoved upward and he looked more like a beefed-up secret agent on a mission rather than an innocent British butler. But nonetheless, Roman stood up, quickly walking across the expanse of the library and shaking Alfred's hand.

"Mr. Pennyworth?" he asked, craning his neck toward his men to shake his hand as well.

"Yes?" he replied, a harsh British growl replied.

"How are you? I love the house and the party is fantastic. My boys here are in love with the hors d'oeuvres. Excellent work."

"Thank you." Alfred bluntly stated.

"And you were telling me your name?" he asked.

"Roman Sionis. Owner of Janus Cosmetics and several clothing stores across the East Coast."

"Ah, yes. And what are you here for?"

"I have a possible business venture to discuss with Bruce about. It's something I think he'd be extremely interested in. Could you find him for me? I'm going out of town for the next week and I feel more comfortable meeting face to face."

"Sure. I'll be right back. May I get you gentlemen anything? A brandy? Vodka on the rocks? Kick in the face?" Alfred asked as he walked away, suddenly turning at the doorway.

"Excuse me?" Carver asked.

"I'll call Master Wayne for you, Mr. Sionis. But first... I want you to explain why you've brought illegal firearms into my home."

"Illegal? I think you're confused, Mr. Pennyworth." Roman laughed, seeing the tightening fist below Alfred's waist.

The two gangsters on opposite sides of Alfred gave him a look and crossed their arms, doing their best to intimidate with their bulging arm muscles and mean stares. Alfred let a small huff of air escape through his nose and he looked at the bigger man, eyeing the outline of a large pistol inside a holster that went over his left arm. Alfred swiftly reached through the man's leather jacket and ripped the pistol out, taking out the magazine and dislodging the loaded round as it spun across the marble floor. Roman held his hands up and cleared his throat loudly as Carver reached for his gun as well. He crossed gazes with Roman and he shook his head, urging him to pull back. The other man attempted to place his hands on Alfred but he stepped quickly to the left, cracking the side of the pistol against his nose and making the man scream. The man dropped to his knees and Alfred held up the gun in Roman's eyesight, still unmoved by the whole situation.

"You were explaining this?" the butler demanded.

"Sorry, friend!" Roman chuckled, running his fingers through his black buzz cut and trying to prevent the shaking in his fingers to start.

"I hired them as bodyguards but you're right! Gotham's very strict on concealed weapons. I should've warned you. I apologize, Mr. Pennyworth. It's my fault. Now... please, can you get Mr. Wayne for me? Or do I have to come back another day?"

"I'll call for him. Just wait here, sir." Alfred grumbled.

Alfred walked out and quickly dialed Bruce's number on his phone, turning a corner in the long hallway and opening the door to the room beside the library. Bruce answered almost immediately.

"Yes?"

"We have a guest in the library. Roman Sionis."

"Wonderful. Any other men with him?" Bruce asked.

"Two. Both armed. He brought his two scariest members for intimidation. Should I tell them you are unavailable?"

"No. I'm heading down now. Anything else?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

Bruce waited for Alfred to continue.

"I'd rather if you _not _start a battle in the library. Those books are older than you and me combined." he quipped.

* * *

"He's heading down now, boss. We got him." one of Sionis' undercover men said as they watched Bruce Wayne stick his phone in his pocket and make his way down the long corridor to the library.

The man beside the other gangster nodded and they quietly walked behind the billionaire. He flipped out his expensive, gold-plated phone and quickly texted a multitude of people as he made his way down the hallway. He dialed a number with his fast fingers and waited a moment before squealing out a squeal of delight at the caller. The two men met eyes and rolled them as they carefully walked a few paces behind Bruce.

"Theo! I love the proto-car thing your boys brought over from Kord Mechanics."

"Yes! The XL Hyper-One. Excellent vehicle, man. I'll take three. Just talk it over with Mr. Earle in the morning. Okay. Okay, thanks, Theo. Anytime."

Bruce shut the phone and stopped suddenly, hearing the screech of the men's shoes. He turned around and was startled, backing up slightly before smiling.

"Hello, gentlemen. Enjoying the view?"

"Funny, Mr. Wayne." the man on the left chuckled.

"Our boss would like a word with you."

"Mr... Sionis? The makeup king of Gotham, right?"

"I think he'd prefer if you didn't call him that. But, yes. Mr. Roman Sionis. He's in the library."

"Let's go, then."

Bruce walked ahead of the men and quickly swung the twin doors open, seeing the men inside the room playing with the antique globe across from the pool table. He snapped his fingers and they stopped spinning, looking at him.

"That globe was given to us by one of Columbus' ancestors apparently. Wouldn't play with it."

Roman turned around, adjusting his cufflinks before smiling a mile wide and holding out his hand. Bruce shook it firmly and walked over to a small counter near the desk. He pulled out the first drawer, revealing a refrigerated minibar. He pointed at the scotch and whiskey bottles, clearing his throat to get Roman's attention.

"Choose your poison, Roman."

"Whiskey, please. Thank you."

Bruce quickly poured the strong alcohol into a small tumbler glass, walking over to the leather chair Roman was seated in and sitting at the seat behind the desk. He spread his arms out and nodded at his men.

"You gentlemen are free to drink whatever you like." he said.

His men began to walk over to the bar as Roman took a sip, sighing deeply before sitting the glass on a shiny, aluminum coaster. He gave Bruce a sincere look and smiled again.

"How are you, Roman? And how is your cosmetics company? I've heard about a possible stock in the works? That's exciting."

"Oh, it is. We're on the verge of reaching 100 million in sales a year based on last year's statistics." Roman replied.

"Wonderful. Are you enjoying the party?"

"Very much so. I must say that your butler...? Bodyguard...?" Roman began, trailing off so Bruce could identify the harsh Englishman.

"Head of Security and family friend. The 'butler' word has been overused. He does a lot more than feeding me and making sure I've been wiped properly." Bruce laughed.

"Oh, of course. But I must say that he is certainly doing his job very well. Give him a raise." Roman said.

The two businessmen blurted out fake laughs and caught the attention of the drinking men in the corner as the real conversation was beginning to take shape. The tension in the room gained a physical sense of being and Bruce's eyes began to narrow as he heard Roman's voice dropping down a few octaves. Becoming more menacing. More territorial. Carver took a long swallow of his bourbon and watched as his boss breathed in, air sliding past his teeth and pulling out an envelope and a small magazine. He straightened it out and slid it over to Bruce's side of the desk. Bruce looked down and picked it up, his eyes peeking past the top of the freshly-printed pages. It was a mock-up of a weapons magazine. Sionis Industries was emblazoned as the main article. Sionis Industries didn't exist. Not yet, anyway. Bruce looked over it and narrowed his eyes as he spotted something off. He dropped it on the table and pointed to the logo. The Wayne Enterprises logo strapped onto the butt of an advanced rifle. A highly, futuristic almost, advance rifle.

"What's this? We don't make weapons anymore. You have to know this, Roman."

"Oh, I know. But everyone else is doing it. Especially in this new world... with caped heroes flying about, robots attacking cities, and just the concept of an alien god. That doesn't scare you? Don't you want to protect the innocent?"

"Of course it scares me. I just don't think making our weapons deadlier will do any good. We need to educate people on the dangers, not cause more."

Roman tapped the cover page and laughed. He readjusted the cuff links on his jacket and sat up straighter than before. Bruce didn't over, shocked by Roman's confidence.

"What's this really about? Money? LexCorp has a lot more and they love this stuff. Why do you want my company?"

"Because we're both Gotham kids. Luthor is trying to be the President. I don't want to work with the guy who thinks he knows it all. I want someone like _you. _Someone who has the ability to provide us with the profit and letting things slide every once in a while."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... Bruce, come on. It's no secret. Browning Perry? You know about our deal. You're not dumb."

Bruce shifted suddenly, looking at the drinking men.

"Let's talk in private."

"Okay." Roman submitted.

He snapped his fingers and the men, like dogs, flew on their heels and left the room. Glasses in hand. When Carver winked at his boss and shut the door, Roman's smile dropped and his eyes sunk. He turned back to Bruce, finding him standing beside the giant windows, rolling the curtains up. In the distance, about ten miles away, the skyline of Gotham shown into the dark, purple sky. Police patrol zeppelins slowly floated across the skyline and lightning blasted far off into the seaboard. Bruce pointed to the city and turned back to Roman, his finger centered on the skyscrapers.

"When you stole Victor Fries' technology, you were planning to use it on the Black Mask and his gang. I know all about that. You were going to tear this city apart. By fear and death. You're right, Roman. I... am _not_ dumb. I know what you're planning."

Bruce stepped toward the desk, slamming his hands against it and making Roman flinch.

"Come on, Bruce. This is what businesses do. This is how they run. You still don't understand, do you? Why do you think companies make billions? Is it from being courteous and doing everything the supposed 'right' way? Hell no. This is how it works."

"Things change."

"Things never change. Excuses just get more elaborate." Roman quipped.

"Get out."

"Keep the magazine. Sleep on it." Roman said as he got up and downed the rest of his drink.

"Get out!" Bruce demanded.

"You can only keep up the act for so long. It never lasts. And neither will you if you keep trying to play the hero. The real heroes are the ones wiling to do what's expected. Taking the necessary steps to ensure our survival. It's a new world, Bruce. I told Perry the exact same thing a year ago. And look what happened to him. Just watch your back. Survival of the fittest." Roman said, walking out of the room and spinning the globe obnoxiously.

Bruce walked quickly behind him and caught the door before Roman left the room. He grabbed Roman by his arm and he came to a stop. Roman smiled without fear and shoved himself off from Bruce's grip.

"What? Change your mind?"

"Stay away from Wayne Enterprises. Your deals with us are done. Understand?"

"Absolutely." Roman said with a mocking tone of voice.

The rest of his entourage guided him away and they walked down the hall, dropping their tumblers on the carpet. Alfred appeared from the east side of the hallway as they walked off, crossing his arms and scoffing.

"Shitheels." he mumbled

Bruce looked at him and his eyes became dark.

"He's still at war with the Black Mask. He wants me to help him develop weapons. Just like his deal with Perry. He's going to get himself killed and a lot of other people."

"How's the investigation against him going? You haven't mentioned him in a long time." Alfred asked.

"There's almost nothing. The Black Mask keeps popping up everywhere but no signs of Roman. He's still in the planning stages. But he's getting desperate. I can see right through him. He's scared."

"What are you going to do?"

"Roman has nothing. Once the Black Masks takes him out, I'll find him."

"You mean let him _kill_ him? Is that what you're saying?"

"Like he told me... survival of the fittest."

Bruce walked off, heading back toward the party while Alfred looked on. He took off his glasses and shook his head.


	5. Destiny

**sixteen years ago . . .**

"It's okay, Bruce! We just have a few questions!" the Wayne Enterprises executive pleaded.

"Get away from me!" Bruce screamed, punching the executive in the jaw before hopping off of the couch and busting through the door of the study room on the third floor.

"Bruce!" one of the female executives yelled as he vanished from the floor. She sat back down in her seat with her head in her knees.

Bruce had tears running down the sides of his face and he ran with all his might, into the labyrinth halls of Wayne Manor. He wanted to escape it all. Jump into his own world and leave everything else behind.

The executive flew back in the chair and wiped the blood flowing from his busted lip as the two female executives watched in shock. A few moments later, as the executive rose from his seat, Alfred burst in through the study door and stomped toward the man. He held out his hand for Alfred to shake and gave a pained smile.

"Andrew Powers. Man, the kid's got a mean left hook." he chuckled.

Alfred grabbed him by his collar and brought him nose-to-nose. The man's expression changed instantly and swallowed a lump in his throat. One of the women screamed and hit Alfred in the back.

"What did you do to him? What did you ask him?" Alfred cried.

"I was asking him questions about the company. We wanted him to sign a few papers. That's all!" Powers replied.

"It's been two days. What is wrong with you?"

"Well... and no disrespect, Mr. Pennyworth... but this needs to be dealt with. The money has to be-." he began before Alfred scoffed.

Alfred dropped the man and stormed off, chasing after the faint noises of Bruce's feet down the halls.

"Master Bruce!" he yelled.

"No! I don't want anyone here. Go away!" Bruce replied, his voice bouncing off of every corridor in Wayne Manor.

"You can't hide in here forever. This won't solve anything." Alfred said.

He walked slowly around the Manor, listening closely for footsteps and a whimper that echoed every few moments. He heard a rustle from the bookshelf at the end of a hall on his right and Alfred flicked his glasses on top of his head. He saw a book fall from its place on the shelf and Alfred broke out into a quick jog.

"Master Bruce! I want to talk to you!"

"It's okay, Alfred. They're talking to me now."

Alfred turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks at the strange phrase. He saw Bruce at the end of the hall, facing the right wall and standing straight up. Alfred cleared his throat and quietly walked up to the boy. Bruce's eyes were fixated at an empty spot on the yellow wall and Alfred stared at the same space, puzzled at Bruce's actions. He walked over to Bruce and saw his mouth moving in a disturbing way. Tears had stopped falling from his eyes, the remaining drops slipping from his chin. Alfred leaned down on one knee and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to get his attention.

"Master Bruce?" he asked with a whisper.

"No-no-no. I will get it. He will pay. I promise." Bruce remarked, clearly not responding to his butler.

"Master Bruce? Who- who are you...?"

"Yes. Yes, father."

"Are you talking to me, Master Bruce?" he asked, pointing to himself.

"Bruce... who are you talking to?"

Alfred shook the young child and still, Bruce didn't come out from his stare session with the wallpaper.

"Of course. It is what I have to do. I love you too, Mom."

"Master Bruce... stop this."

"My destiny?"

"Bruce!"

Alfred harshly shook his shoulder and grabbed his arm fiercely. Bruce began to drool and didn't blink. Alfred faced Bruce, turning him around so that he was facing the hallway. Looking close enough, he could tell that Bruce's mouth was still moving. His eyes followed a shape in his mind, responding and reacting to it. Alfred snapped his fingers and smacked Bruce lightly on the face. Bruce blinked a few times and let out an unintelligible string of words mixed together and spat out with lightning speeds. Alfred almost began to cry and shook Bruce hard, begging him to wake up from his waking nightmare.

"Bruce! Come out of it, mate!" Alfred cried.

He watched as Bruce's pupils became dilated and he became conscious again, drool falling out from the side of his mouth. Bruce's face became drenched with fear and he let out a scream, punching and kicking at Alfred. He grabbed Alfred's hair and slammed it into the wall. Alfred ignored the attacks and screamed in fear when the boy's body became limp and he shook violently. He began vomiting and convulsing, foaming at the mouth and his eyelids fluttering.

"Oh my God!" Alfred yelled.

He swooped up Bruce's body and ran down the hallway, screaming for help.

"Never again. Yes." Bruce spat out.

"Help me! Call the hospital for God's sake!"

"Mr. Pennyworth!" one of the women yelled from the study.

"No-no-yes. I will complete the-for you, Father,-destiny of my-me life-lives. Yes! Yes! Yes!" Bruce muttered as Alfred sprinted across the Manor and to the front entrance.

"What's going on?" Andrew Powers asked, a tissue hanging from his busted lip.

"He's having a seizure. I'm taking him to a hospital. Right now!"

"Oh, God." Powers said, gathering his things and urging his partners to join him.

Alfred ran through the front door and into the nearest car owned by the Wayne Family. The 2-door Porsche would have to do. Alfred started it up and gently lowered Bruce inside. He patted his back and buckled him in as he continued to convulse. Tears blocked vision inside his glasses and he couldn't help but let out a cry of sadness and hopelessness.

"It's going to be okay, Master Bruce. Do you hear me?" Alfred said as he sped off into Gotham.

_It's going to be okay . . ._


	6. Breakfast

**Grayson Farm, Gotham**

**17 miles from Gotham City . . .**

The early morning fog rolled across the 47-acre farmland. The sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains and the rays twinkled through the naked trees. The sunshine sliced through the window of Dick Grayson's bedroom and woke him up. He jolted awake from the bright light and the sound of children's stomping feet faded into his ears. His wife rolled over onto his chest and buried her face into the side of his. He breathed deeply and smiled, hearing his kids laughing and chasing the dog around the house on the third floor.

"They're up. Breakfast." Mary grumbled.

Dick nodded and slid away from the nice comfort of his bed and into the brisk air of the farmhouse. He heard the jumbled sounds of his children yelling, laughing, and crying. All at once. The life of a father with five kids. Joyous. And tiring. He quickly hopped down the expertly-sanded wooden staircase, the cold surface stinging his feet as he rushed over to the fireplace. He grabbed two newspapers and the bottle of lighter fluid, looking over to the carrier that was usually filled with logs. None were present. He sighed.

"Dammit. Forgot about the wood we needed last night." he growled.

He sat the newspapers and lighter fluid on the top of the carrier, looking toward the front door. It was wide open. _No wonder it's so cold in here_. He walked over the screen door, about to put on his boots. Then, he heard the noise of someone breathing heavily after a forceful jut of air left their lungs. He heard it three more times before peeking around the side and looking on the porch to his left. He smiled.

"Dick. What are you doing out here so early?"

"Dad. You know I go by Rich. I really want that to catch on." his son responded without much emotion.

Dick held his hands up in sarcastic surrender, backing up and laughing.

"Still doing that yoga? How's that working out?"

"It's not yoga. Tai chi."

"You do poses to help with breathing and stress, right? How does punching at the air help with stress?" Dick asked.

"I'm doing Taekwondo too. Tai chi and Taekwondo on Mondays and Wednesdays. Karate on Tuesdays and Thursdays. My new schedule."

"Oh. Cool. What's with this new style?"

"What do you mean?" Rich asked as he bent down and stretched his arms to the sky while breathing slowly.

"You've started acting like a monk these past few months. I just want to know you're okay with how things are. I want the best for you."

"Things are never going to be okay, Dad. I've come to accept that."

"That's not true. Things are... different but they aren't hopeless. We are all still together. We're a family."

"I know, Dad." Rich said.

Rich leaned up and executed a barrage of aggressive but near-perfect strikes with his hands and feet. He spun around on the mat, using the momentum from his feet to lift him higher before spinning completely around. His feet missed the mat and he was heading toward the porch floor, face first. But he caught himself with his hands and pushed himself upwards. Dick laughed and clapped loudly.

"Wow. What was that? Taekwondo?"

"Savate. French kickboxing with my own little spin on it." Rich said with a smile.

"Think you could help me kick down a few logs?" Dick asked, helping his son up and slapping him on the back.

Rich laughed and hopped over the porch railing with a front-flip. He landed it perfectly.

"Showoff!" his father yelled from the porch.

* * *

**Wayne Enterprises**

**9:44 a.m.**

"The board will _not_ be discussing the events of last fall involving Mr. Browning Perry any longer. Everything that could have been said... _has_ been said. Are we clear? No more gossip. No more speculation. The facts are the facts." Lucius Fox, CEO of Wayne Enterprises said to the boardroom of six members.

"Mr. Wayne, do you want to add anything?" Lucius said to Bruce, who was sitting directly across from the CEO's seat to the right.

Bruce woke up from his short nap, a sharp snore flying through the air as he whipped his head up from the headrest behind him and mumbled something at lightning speed. He looked around the room with wide and confused eyes before wiping his face and clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fox. What were we discussing?"

The half-dozen board members looked at the heir to the multi-billion dollar company with shocked faces as his dumbfoundedness didn't end. Lucius bit his lip and laced his fingers together as he turned his swivel chair slightly to the right.

"We were talking about the rumors around Browing Perry and the incident at the labs. With Victor Fries?"

"Oh, yes. The accident." Bruce nodded, fully returning to the waking world.

"That's all it was, everyone. Mr. Fries is a mentally ill man who desperate to save his wife. And in his desperation, there were unfortunate casualties."

"What about that botany woman? The one who came back from the mor-?" a board member asked, raising their hand before Bruce raised a finger.

"It is now common knowledge that Pamela Isley was _wrongfully_ identified as dead. Come on, people. Life isn't an old horror movie." Bruce laughed.

"I saw her and that zombie-plant-creature-monster-thing grow trees from the ground, Mr. Wayne. How can you cover for the government and say that it didn't happen?" another member yelled from a long way down the enormous table.

"I didn't say it didn't happen, Mr. Rolfe. I can only say what I heard on the news."

"The news didn't mention Batman shooting the giant plant down with his airplane. Or the yellow fog that put people in the hospital." Mr. Rolfe, continued.

Bruce and Lucius exchanged looks and Bruce shook his head.

"Okay, everyone. Let's just stop with the rumors. It's not good for the victims or anyone else involved. Or for the company. We can't keep gossiping around here. We represent something bigger than ourselves."

"Yeah, his father." one of the older board members murmured.

"Excuse me?" Bruce said.

"Don't act so high on yourself, Bruce. I've been here since you were a child and you probably don't even know my name, do you, boy?"

Bruce stared at the man intently before standing up and pushing his chair aside. He scanned the room and took a deep breath. He pointed to the defensive board member and held his square jaw up high.

"I know exactly who you are, Mr. Michael Nolan. And you, Michelle O'Connell. Joe Keaton. Christopher Kilmer. Rick Clooney. Rachel Kellington. Lucius Fox. And me, Bruce Wayne. How did I do?"

The entire board was silent and some of the more compassionate members gave a small smile before bowing their heads. Mr. Kilmer flashed a look at Michael Nolan beside him and the board leader who supervised the financial division couldn't help but open his mouth in shock. Bruce folded his arms and looked around the conference room.

"We do represent my father. And the men and women before him that lead this company to become something greater. Wayne Enterprises has received a lot of flak as of late. We all know this. It isn't a secret. Do you know why? Because a man, Browning Perry, made some very bad and questionable decisions involving our business with others. And the company has paid for his decisions. But we cannot dwell on the past. We need to learn from his _stupidity_, to be frank, and not follow down the same path. But, I am not your leader. Mr. Fox is a better man than I will ever be and you, represent him now."

Bruce felt a sharp buzz in his jacket pocket and cut his speech short.

"I have to go, everyone. Have a good day and listen to this man. He knows what he's talking about."

Bruce walked out quickly from the conference room and slammed the door shut behind him as he ran out. Lucius sighed as he watched Bruce enter the elevator with a tapping foot and cleared his throat.

"Well, I know Mr. Wayne was _supposed_ to begin his presentation for clean energy research with LexCorp but I guess that can wait until tomorrow." Lucius said, stacking his papers and finding the next subject on the memo quickly.

"Okay, Ms. O'Connell. I guess we will hear your PowerPoint wages for uh... maintenance." Lucius finished with a smile.

* * *

***As for the story about Pamela Isley and the zombie-plant-creature-monster-thing... another short story will be coming soon to explain all of that mysterious stuff. Stay tuned, everyone. **

**:)**

**-MS777**


	7. Anarchy

***Before we get into Chapter 6 that will really kick things into gear, I thought it would be nice to give all of you an update on the writing process of the DARK KNIGHT Universe and the rest of my stories and how things are going. Unfortunately, both the X4 story and the Spider-Man story have been put on hold... indefinitely. But, there is a good reason why. **

**I have just started my journey as a full-fledged adult by getting a state, full-time job and being able to support myself and my girlfriend, all before my 19th birthday later this month of July. I have really come into my own and I'm sorry that this development has greatly hurt my progression on my stories. A lot of stories. Like a lot a lot. **

**I have been a writer since I could remember. I first wrote a 29-page detective story called the DS Detectives that I was so proud of. It was there I learned the basics of plot, character study, and balancing between action and slow-burns. Throughout the years, I've dreamed up ideas for several stand-alone novels of my own creation. The whole reason I started this fanfic career, all the way back in early 2013, was because I wanted to gain an audience and see how I could handle their reactions. During the writing of all the stories here on the site, I've always been multitasking with my own stories. And now, I have been in contact with 3 HUGE publishers and while I'm not trying to be overly-optimistic... I can't help but ****_be_**** optimistic. I have written a full-length, 300+ page novel that is a dark thriller about a guy that accidently kills the girl he's being unfaithful with and how the small town reacts to her murder. The whole rest of the book details his attempts to win over all. I have a larger book series in the planning phase that is similar to the structure of the DARK KNIGHT saga with stand-alone stories that end with a team-up book finale. That's all I can say about that at this time. :P**

**But, don't think I'm quitting... okay? I am determined to finish the DARK KNIGHT saga. I actually have a 30-page document in a nice binder that details the timeline and story treatments for the rest of the saga. There are 10 more epic stories I have planned. During the last couple of months, I have written certain sections that I was dying to finally put down on paper, so do not worry, this series will be done and the awesome, awesome ending makes me have a tear in my eye because it is perfect and all of you who love my versions of Bruce, Alfred, the Joker, Superman, and the rest of the Justice League and the supporting cast will not be disappointed. **

**...So, as a treat to all of you and as a proof of concept, I will let you in on the next 3 full-length stories that will be released, along with two mini-stories that will be coming up soon.:**

**DARK KNIGHTFALL- Volume 5 of the DARK KNIGHT Saga**

**DARK KNIGHT: ASHES OF ARKHAM- Volume 6 of the DARK KNIGHT Saga**

**DARK KNIGHT: HUSHED SECRETS- Volume 7 of the DARK KNIGHT Saga**

**And here are the mini-stories that will be coming later this Fall of 2016:**

**HALLOWEEN KNIGHT: The Return of Gardalo**

**DARK KNIGHT: NATURE'S SELECTION**

**... And as an even bigger treat... YES... the next three stories do include references to the comic-book in their title. So, if you have no clue what they will be about, research those keywords and hopefully, you'll have an idea about what the stories will focus on. I am not stopping and I will try to have PARALLELS finished before October if all things go right. So, get ready for a whole lot of DARK KNIGHT, coming your way, very soon. Thanks for sticking by me, guys. I really do thank all of you. :)**

***One side-note for how the rest of my stories are going to be from now on...**

**I am restructuring the way I write my stories. After rewatching Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones this summer, I realized that the way those shows serialize their content and the way the drama continues to unfold and the pace is not broken, I am treating all future stories, including the fourth DARK KNIGHT and my new FALLOUT stories as television shows. By that, I mean they are structured in such a way that they contain a lot more content, a lot more tension, and a lot more enjoyment in general. The chapters will be longer (around 3500 words each) and will contain a lot more information instead of piece-mealing the story across dozens of small, 1000-word chapters every few weeks. From now on, I will be publishing new chapters on a weekly basis, Mondays and Thursdays. This is an attempt to create something similar to a weekly TV show, like Breaking Bad or Game of Thrones. I promise you that from now on, my stories are going to be top-notch entertainment and I am trying my hardest to gain new readers with these two new stories to try and introduce newbies to the franchises without them having to have any prior knowledge about these subjects. So... enjoy the 'reboot' of MegaSam777 and the stories I'm bringing to you! **

**-MS777**

* * *

"Barb? You home?" Gordon asked as he walked in the door to his brand-new house and threw his jacket on the coat rack.

"Yeah. In here." his daughter yelled from the kitchen.

Gordon sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing them against his worn and smelly shirt as he walked into the kitchen and plopped down in one of the chairs beside the counter where Barbara was making a sandwich. He grabbed a handful of BBQ chips from the open bag and watched as she grabbed multiple meats and all different kinds of condiments most wouldn't even think about putting on bread. He couldn't help but smile. She was the spitting image of both him and her mother. She was brillant, beautiful, and full of trouble and a hunger for danger. Just like dear old Dad.

"What are you doing here? You work until midnight I thought." she asked.

"I took my vacation early. I need a mental health break."

"Well," she laughed as she nearly dropped the vanilla cake frosting.

"I can't say you don't deserve it after finding those bank robbers. I can't believe they're back."

"The Royal Flush gang? No. These new idiots were nowhere near as skilled as the originals. Just a bunch of nuts with cheap Halloween masks and some guns."

"We've had an influx of those recently, haven't we?" Barbara replied.

Gordon nodded as he finished chewing.

"That's why I wanted to get off early. I need to stop dealing with those _nuts_ in masks for a week or two because I only have two more years before you shoot off to a college so I can cry when I get the tuition bill." he said with a wink.

"Gotham University is good, though. Wouldn't have to go out of state."

"After the incident with Isley, that's going to be a no, Red."

He watched his daughter roll her eyes in the deadly way only a teenage woman was capable of doing. She layered her ham and turkey and cheese sandwich with honey mustard, mayo, and vanilla frosting in a thick mash while Gordon watched in disgust.

"You know what?" he asked.

"I've watched meth-heads lick dirt off of concrete walls... and _that_ made me less queasy than this abomination you're making right now."

"Abomination..." she said while slamming the other piece of bread on top.

"And a taste fascination."

She took a gigantic bite and Gordon had no choice but to leap up from his chair and leave the kitchen. Barbara smiled with her mouth full of flavor bombardment and closed the fridge. She took her bag of chips and ran upstairs with her sandwich in hand. She leaped up the final stairs and slid across the floor to her room. She slammed the door shut and locked it with the three additional locks she had installed herself. She smiled as she looked around, never stopping to admire her massive... and slightly expensive... PC setup. Three monitors, a computer system the size of a mini-fridge, and a holographic keyboard were the tools she used to completely enter her own world of hacking expertise and covert operations. She was a part of the infamous hacking 'party', AnaRkY. It was led by an intelligent god of software programming, calling himself Raglan Tan, who gave 'homework' assignments to all of his employees. Barbara was third-in-command. She lied online and kept her identity a secret by using an encrypted IP address.

Online, her name was Mockingbird and her age was 21. In real life, she had just turned 15. Even Raglan hadn't figured out her real identity. Or, at least, he never brought it up. And that was good enough for her. Raglan Tan had created a four-month operation special, in which the employees of AnaRkY were supposed to hack and uncover any evil secrets about CEOs of massive corporations around Gotham City. Mockingbird was designated to dig into who seemed to be the most boring subject on Raglan Tan's list, Roman Sionis. He was the CEO of Janus Cosmetics, a makeup company. But rumors among the criminal underground and the Deep Web, a secret part of the Internet only accessed by using anonymous servers, that Janus was actually using funds from the Mob to help increase sales and expansion. She found encrypted files that used code words that were related to heavy artillery and black market products such as rhino horn and elephant tusks. At first, she was confused that they were buying illegal animal parts until she researched heavily and realized that Janus had potential millions to spread across its growing empire. Roman Sionis himself had more wealth than he publically let out. His net worth was estimated to be around 40 million but through her all-night effort of hacking through Swiss bank accounts, she discovered that Roman had over 400 million American dollars spread across three separate accounts.

As she took another bite of her sandwich, her left monitor flashed white for a moment and the anarchy symbol was emblazoned across all three screens. Barbara quickly put her plate down and grabbed the black ski mask and sunglasses before flicking the lights off. She made sure the center webcam was positioned correctly and sat down, waiting for the call to go through. She flicked up the lens cap and before her, Raglan Tan was shown on the Skype screen in all of his hacker glory. He was dressed in an expensive red trench coat, black gloves, and an eerie white mask with blank, expressionless eyes and a small slit for the mouth. He sat with a straight posture and his hands on top of the other on the desk he sat at.

"Yes, Raglan Tan?" Barbara asked, the voice changer in the ski mask working adequately.

"Mockingbird. I've heard that you've uncovered some interesting data related to Sionis' company?" Raglan responded with a voice-changer of his own.

"Yes, sir. I've examined three seperate bank accounts from Swiss banks and they all eventually lead back to Sionis. It's his money. There's no doubt about that. Do you remember the report about the rhino horn shipment?"

Raglan nodded slowly, the mask shimmering with a white-noise-like ripple through the webcam screen.

"Well, last night, the Batman took out the men guarding the ship at the docks. There were some drugs stuffed in with the shipment. I spotted someone on the video feed before GCPD took ownership."

Barbara quickly uploaded a video file and sent it to Raglan's hard drive through the AnaRkY intranet set up by Barbara herself. Raglan viewed the video in silence and opened up a tab that popped up next to his face. He paused the video after the Batman's flying vehicle had taken off into the sky and zoomed in on the black man smiling with binoculars. Raglan drew a red circle around the man on the roof of the warehouse and crossed his arms.

"What does this man have in common with Sionis? And the shipment itself?"

"I've also spotted him at Sionis Cosmetics..." Barbara said, sending a document folder packed with pictures taken from security feeds and some of her lower agents working at AnaRkY.

Raglan looked intently at the files on the other end, his frown visible as he realized the strangeness of the man's presence with both Sionis at various business meetings and the Black Mask's men.

"He's working with Sionis. But the shipment was for the Black Mask's men, correct?" Raglan asked.

"Yes, sir. I think we have a mole on our hands. Someone who could be working the Mob war from both ends." Barbara said.

"Interesting, Mockingbird."

Barbara bit her lip inside her ski mask as she could tell Raglan was smiling underneath his blank face. Raglan gave one more glance at the files she sent before nodding and sighing.

"Keep your focus on this man. See where he goes. Very interesting, Mockingbird. I'm proud of you. I'll have another meeting with you before the week is over."

And without a proper goodbye, Raglan shut off his camera feed and Barbara quickly slid the lens cap back over her webcam and sat back in her chair, satisfied with Raglan's toleration of her.

"I'm a freaking monster." she said to herself, her voice still distorted as she spun around in the swivel chair.

She lifted up the mask to her nose, taking a big bite before deciding to find a new 'fail of the week' video to watch while she finished dinner.

* * *

"Mr. Brock, I _am_ being honest! Dwight hasn't talked to me in a week, okay? He took more than he was supposed to have and I forgot to get the money from him. I messed up!" Javier, a waiter making minimum wage at the Gem Rock Hotel told the towering African-American enforcer holding him by the front of his bow tie.

The two of them were on the third-floor kitchen, a kitchen that Brock had quickly cleared of any life with a simple stare. Brock had corned Javier into the trash cans and had accidently dumped the waiter into one of them when he first cornered him. Javier spoke in broken English and was still understanding the way Americans lived. But he had an idea that most didn't suffer under the reign of someone like Brock.

"Well, you find Dwight and tell him that I'll break his other arm if he doesn't answer the goddamn phone in the next hour. If you don't tell him, I'll throw you down the dumbwaiter. Am I being clear, Javier?" Brock replied, gripping his tie with extreme force and lifting the 120-pound man high into the air.

Brock slammed him against the wall after not hearing an answer and pulled the tie harder, beginning to choke Javier. He leaned in with one ear close to hear an answer and the wheezes of air let him know that he was trying. He gripped Brock's shoulder and he shrugged his hand off, not giving him a fair chance. A small smile crept across the corners of his mouth as Javier began to turn purple at the bottom of his cheeks.

"You really should wear a clip-on, Javier." he laughed quietly.

Javier's eyes were bulging out of his head and the wheezes stopped, no air coming from his throat. After a few more seconds of enjoying his loafers dangle a foot from the carpet, he loosened his grip and dropped the Hispanic waiter. Javier caressed his throat softly as Brock spun around on his $200 boots and clapped his hands, laughing as Javier struggled to let oxygen back into his brain. He bent down as Javier gagged, dry-heaving and swallowing quickly in fear that the enforce would attack him again. Javier stared up at Brock with anxiety present through his eyes and Brock returned the stare with a heavy laugh.

"Come on, Javier! Let me help you up."

Brock stood up and held out his hand. Javier paused for a second, looking at Brock's feet to make sure he wouldn't receive a kick to the chest before grabbing hold of his forearm. Brock jerked him up with one swift pull and whiplash occurred in the back of his neck. Brock slapped Javier's back and pulled his collar down, seeing if he left a mark.

"You're alright, aren't you?" he asked, the tone of his voice changed. A softer, more friendly voice.

Javier gave a weak smile and nodded as Brock patted his back again.

"Hey," Brock said as Javier collected himself.

"You know that this is just an act, don't you? This enforcer shit I put on? It's just for show."

Javier rubbed his throat again and looked at Brock with confusion.

"I guess that makes sense. You have a job to do."

"Exactly." Brock said, pointing a finger at Javier.

Brock let Javier get in front of him and he opened up the kitchen door for him. Brock cleared his throat after Javier was out of the room and the timid waiter turned around.

"But you know what isn't an act?" he asked.

"Hm?" Javier asked, not understanding the wording.

"My anger when people fuck me over... time... and time... again."

Javier's eyes opened wide for a split-second before Brock pulled him back inside and punched him directly in the nose. Blood spurted across Brock's fist and his face as he delivered three more, with greater force every time. Javier couldn't even scream as the attacks came so swift and brutal. Brock pulled Javier to his feet and twisted his arm around his back, grabbing his elbow and wrapping his right arm around Javier's shoulder and pulling back with all of his might. The shoulder popped out of place and Javier screamed a shrill yelp before Brock slammed his head into the dumbwaiter door. Brock punched it out of place and kicked out one of Javier's knees. As the waiter fell to the floor, Brock picked him up by his torso and stuffed him inside the dumbwaiter. Javier screamed in fear and tried to pull himself back in, his dislocated shoulder preventing him from using his left arm.

"Say hi to the dining staff for me, Javier!" Brock said with no emotion.

He dropped the waiter into the shaft, watching his feet slide down the hole as he screamed all the way down. Within five seconds, the waiter hit the metal shaft at the bottom and Brock could hear screams from the dish staff below. He smiled and wiped blood off of his face as he grabbed his phone from the side pocket in his leather jacket. He pressed #2 on speed-dial and within seconds, one of the Black Mask's secretaries answered.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Downtown's competition has been dealt with. I think the courier fell down a dumbwaiter at work."

The secretary paused a second, slamming keys on a keyboard in the background before returning to the call.

"Thank you for your information. Our supervisor will be notified."

"Thank _you_." Brock said with a smile as he left the kitchen.

"Have a nice day." the secretary replied, ending the call.

As he punched the down button on the elevator, Brock pressed #3 on speed-dial and directly got a line open to Roman Sionis.

"Brock." Sionis said simply.

"I'm coming to the office in about ten minutes. We have a new window. Someone took out a rival."

"See you soon."

Brock couldn't help but crack another sinister smile as the elevator closed.


	8. Of Course It's Real

Harry Strange walked in the door to his doctor's office and quickly shut the door behind him. He sat down and looked at the clock. Bruce would be coming in two minutes. Probably less. He quickly opened the middle drawer of the desk leg on his left and pulled out the small vial. He resisted a smile and popped open the vial the height of a shot glass and carefully tapped out a small pile of cocaine. He used the debit card in his wallet to separate the pile into two thin lines the length of a pencil. He sniffed a few times, making sure his orifices were clear before bending down and sniffing hard. One of the lines disappeared and immediately, euphoria and confidence flooded into Harry's system. He wiped his nose and laughed hard, as the thought came into his head once again.

_My top client is the goddamn Batman_.

He laughed hard and long, shaking his head as he still didn't truly believe the truth. "Let's try and get this over with quickly, okay?." Bruce said as he sat down in the nice leather chair in the office of Harry Strange.

"Bruce. Bruce. Bruce." he muttered as he prepared the second line.

He snorted the party drug quickly, breathing deeply as he whipped his head up, receiving a double high from the cocaine and the lack of oxygen from raising his head up too fast. He sat back in the chair and wiped his face roughly, sighing as he looked at the clock again. He thought about the first time he realized the truth about Gotham's golden boy. He was sitting in his office, watching a drunken Bruce run through the streets and trip on the sidewalk in a three-thousand dollar suit. He saw the headline: DRUNKEN BILLIONAIRE'S MILLION-DOLLAR WEEKEND. Bruce had charged up a hotel bill of one point five million dollars through a combination of ordering three sports cars to be delivered to the garage and multiple restaurants ran out of the food that weekend. But when Harry saw the 'smiling' face of Bruce Wayne, he saw something strange. Bruce wasn't drunk. At all. And the smile was forced. Out of his soul. He wasn't doing this for attention in the usual sense. It was a distraction. Harry had a PhD in Psychology, having a better understanding of the human psyche than most. It was then, that the pieces started to come together.

And then, fate brought them face-to-face after Bruce was framed for the murder of Julie Madison, his former girlfriend. Harry jumped at the chance to have Bruce Wayne as a client for his successful program, P.R.E.I., the Protection Response for the Escaped and Incarcerated. He set Bruce up on house arrest at Wayne Manor and got close to him, eventually helping him in his case against the state and revealing that he knew who the Batman really was.

"Hello?" Harry heard the gruff voice of the real Bruce Wayne through his door.

Harry snapped out of his coke-infused flashback and quickly shot up from his seat to greet his client. Bruce walked in without replying to the friendly handshake Harry offered. He walked past him and sat down in the chair with the attitude of a teenaged girl. Harry noticed and couldn't help but laugh.

"Um... what's the problem?" he asked.

"Let's just try and get this over with quickly, okay?." Bruce said as he sat down in the nice leather chair beside the traditional therapist chair.

"In a hurry?" Harry asked, putting his glasses on and grabbing his tablet.

"Just not the biggest fan of coming in here, sitting down like I'm a child, and talking to you, of all people. Yes, that's an offense by that way."

"Gladly taken." Harry smarted as he found Bruce's file.

Harry adjusted his glasses and quickly scrolled through the eight entries he had on Bruce during their meetings over the past few months. He saw the name pop up repeatedly and it made him shudder. Based on the catatonic state Bruce went into after Harry's hypnosis treatments, something traumatic occurred with the young boy who Bruce knew as Jason Todd. He opened a new document and typed out Bruce's name, the time of day, and his own name and job title. He slammed the enter key on the tablet screen and looked at Bruce with a big smile.

"I'm ready. Let's do this." Bruce said, laying down on the couch beside the chair and pushing his hair back behind his head.

Harry grabbed the metronome and started it, the repetition of the ticks started to drift Bruce into a deep sleep. Over the course of a week, Harry had tricked Bruce's brain into going into a dream-like state where deeply repressed memories could be unearthed with the right combination of interrogation and manipulation. Harry waited for three minutes and forty-seven seconds: the length of time determined for Bruce's mind to be adequately open for viewing by others. He cleared his throat and prepared to write on the tablet.

"Hello, Bruce. How are you?" he asked.

"I... I had a dream about Washington. In the sewers."

"The sewers? What happened in the sewers?"

"At first, I thought it was a dream. But, it was a memory. Of something that happened in December. Something I tried to bury." Bruce continued in a monotone voice.

Harry sat up in his seat.

"What did you try to bury?"

"I saw my father."

"What?"

* * *

"Come on! There's got to be a sign!" Batman growled, feeling hopeless in the darkness of the sewers.

His body ached after sliding into a sewer hatch when the Amazo drones blew up a tank right in front of him. Washington D.C. was being turned into rubble from the terrorist, Tomas Cook. He continued to try and find the signal to the HQ of the terrorist, distracted by shell shock and the continuous sounds of war from above. He had been searching for a ping on the tracker for the last ten minutes and had not received a signal. He heard the bangs and booms from above that shook the tunnels and rippled the ankle deep water. He rested for a moment against the side of the tunnel, breathing deeply and ignoring the foul, rancid smells of the water. Batman closed his eyes and took off his cowl, letting the coolness of the tunnel let his skin breath for the first time in over 12 hours. He stuck the flashlight against the wall and looked at the cowl in front of him as he held it, looking deep into the eye holes. Who was he in the midst of these super-powered heroes? He was just a man. Bruce Wayne. A billionaire in a bat suit, trying his best to keep up with the rest of the group. A man on a suicide mission while the rest were doing their part to save the world.

"It's hard, isn't it?" a voice said suddenly.

Bruce looked at the cowl, pulling it close to his ear and trying to hear the voice inside the comms-link. No further talking. He looked back down at the cowl and turned it around, inspecting it carefully. He looked up, tucking the cowl in his arm and shining the light around the tunnel, looking for a man to match the voice. No one was in the tunnel but himself. He slammed the flashlight against the wall again and flinched as another loud boom shook the rock walls and dust fell from cracks in the concrete. He slammed his head softly and closed his eyes, shaking his head slowly.

"It's hard. Trying to keep your head above water when you can't seem to swim, son."

He flicked his eyes open and swatted at the air, spotting a familiar figure in the shadows. Water splashed up from his legs and he nearly fell into the murkiness as his fist swung his whole body around. The figure remained still, leaning against the other side of the wall. Bruce quickly placed the cowl back over his head and put his fists out in front of him.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, walking toward the figure.

The figure chuckled to himself and walked to the left as Batman seemed too slow to stop him. The figure crossed his arms, his brown sweater sleeves making a distinct sound against itself that made Batman stop in his tracks. He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked through the darkness, seeing the parted light brown hair to the right and the clean-shaven face with a cleft chin. Batman leaned in close, touching the man's face as he smiled and laughed with a friendly tone.

"Dad?"

"Hello, Bruce. It's been a long time, hasn't it?" Thomas Wayne said.

Bruce nearly fell to the ground as he stumbled backward, shocked as his father, looking identical to the night he died, stood before his son. Thomas leaned down and helped Bruce to his feet. Bruce held tears back and hugged his father, squeezing tight and sniffed away the joy in his soul. Thomas patted his son's back and guided him to a dry spot on a raised platform in the sewers.

"Wh-what's going on?" Bruce asked.

"I'm back, son. Don't you remember?"

Bruce shook his head and closed his eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"After me and your mom had passed... we came back to you."

Bruce stared at his father and slapped his face hard. He closed his eyes again and slapped even hard, feeling his brain rock around in his head. He opened his eyes, only to see his father still right beside him, with a concerned face. Bruce growled and stood up, slamming into the opposite wall and talking to himself.

"This isn't happening. I can't be doing this. This isn't real."

"Of course it's real." Thomas said, walking over to him.

"It may be in your head, but that doesn't mean it isn't real."

Bruce walked to the right as Thomas came closer and was about to curse at him. An explosion hit close to the road and a quake shot through the sewers, splashing filthy water up in his face. He wiped his mouth is disgust and turned around to face Thomas. He held his hand out and saw nothing but the infinite tunnels of D.C.'s sewers, provided by the dim light of his flashlight.

"What in the hell is happening to me?" Bruce asked himself as he fell in the water, collapsing from loss of strength, both physical and mental.

As silence continued to be molested by the sounds of war above him, Bruce couldn't help but smack himself in the head again, grunting from the pain. He dipped his head down as he still couldn't find a signal on his computer and closed his eyes, resting for a moment.

"Master Bruce! I've found something at S.T.A.R. Labs!" Alfred yelled through the comms-link.

Bruce jerked back to life and sighed as he answered.

"Good. What's the next step?"

As he stood up, he looked down the tunnels one last time, for anything to prove he wasn't losing his mind. But, then again, he was wearing a bat costume.

* * *

"What happened after that?" Harry asked, half-concerned and half-enthralled in the moment Bruce had just revealed.

"I got out of the sewers and we took down Cook."

"Have you seen your father since then?" Harry asked.

"It wasn't my father." Bruce replied with a harsh tone.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Have you seen any more hallucinations since then?"

Bruce shook his head, sitting up as he rubbed his eyes. He shook his head again and got up, grabbing his jacket and walking toward the door.

"Where are you going? We still have 15 minutes on our session."

"I have some stuff to attend to. I'll come back before the week is over with. I promise."

"You don't want to continue the discussion on this or Jason?" Harry asked.

When Harry uttered the name, Bruce froze. Harry tensed up in his chair and watched as Bruce spun around on his feet and slowly walked over to Harry. He held up his hand and aimed a firm finger at Harry's face.

"Don't mention that name unless I'm sitting on that couch. Do we understand each other?" he told Harry.

Harry nodded quickly and used his stylus to exit the document app on his tablet, standing up and walking over to his desk. He cleared his throat as Bruce's cold eyes followed him. He sighed and took off his glasses.

"Bruce," he said, preparing his speech carefully.

"I understand that this stuff is hard to vent to others. I get it. We've all been through Hell and you, especially. But you _need_ to talk to people. And I'm not saying this because I am your therapist. I'm saying this as a fellow member of the human race. We all feel this." Harry said, pounding his chest where his heart was.

"I don't need some shrink telling me how to feel. I understand that you want to help and I appreciate it, I really do. But this is going nowhere." Bruce replied.

"I'm not telling you how to feel. I am trying to get you to come out of that shell. You have nobody to talk to... besides Alfred, anyway. That's not healthy. You and I both know that the only way you rid yourself of your rage is pummeling criminals on the streets every night. And I'm sure it feels good. I've punched some people out myself and you feel fantastic. But that feeling passes. And eventually, just like any mood-enhancer, you build up a tolerance. And you get more reckless, more idiotic."

"That isn't why I do what I do, Harry. Don't start this."

"No, Bruce! It is! You are a damaged individual. I'm sorry to say it but it's true! I have been your therapist for half a year now and I am telling you that this is not working out. Eventually, no matter how much training and determination you have, you _will_ die out there. Bloodied and alone. I don't want you to end like that. And your rage will be the end of you. Do you understand what I'm telling you? You will die out there!" Harry screamed, too much emotion coming through his voice and demeanor.

"We're all going to die out there! Don't parent me. I don't need that. I've been through wars. I've faced killers and rapists and pure evil out there. I know what's waiting for me and all of us out there!"

"Then why the hell do you do this, Bruce? What's the endgame?"

Bruce paused, breathing heavily and clenching his fists.

"What? Are you going to hit me now?"

Bruce came two inches from Harry's body and stared deeply into his eyes. Harry stood tall, shaking on the inside as Bruce cracked his neck and held his chin high.

"We're done here. I'm finished with this place."

Bruce turned around and walked out the door, slamming it shut. Harry kept his hard gaze for a few more seconds before relieving the expression and letting his hidden smirk finally come out. He relaxed his body and walked over to the tablet on his desk, quickly pulling up the document app and typing up an update on Bruce.

_Patient is improving. Finally confronting his own radical and frankly, unrealistic goals. Anger is being expressed through every question I ask. Still refuses to dig deep into the past and the boy he knows as Jason Todd. Patient tells me that he will not return. Estimation for return: 4 days or less. Entry 9 finished. -H.S._


	9. Selena

***I'm finally back! EIGHT MONTHS LATER, I know. Sorry, everyone but I needed to take some time off and work on my actual novels. I kept planning to return to my stories but never found the time or energy. But now, I'm back. I will not be putting myself on a schedule again because with work, a personal life, and working on numerous other stories, there is just no time to have two updates a week. So, from now on, I will just be posting updates whenever I can. But there won't be monthly gaps, I can promise that. Sorry for the very, very, very long hiatus but I have returned. Now... time for a recap so all of you don't have to read the last half dozen chapters to catch up.**

* * *

**_PREVIOUSLY ON DARK KNIGHT: PARALLELS . . ._**

**Only months after the epic adventure that brought the Justice League together for the first time, Bruce Wayne has had trouble readjusting to normal life (whatever constitutes normal for a vigilante, anyway). After seeing his dead father in the sewer beneath Washington D.C. as the Justice League's battle came to a close, Bruce is unwillingly seeing a therapist, one of his new friends, Harry Strange, who knows his secret and has plans to uncover Bruce's past through hypnosis, especially the backstory on the person known as _Jason Todd_. Alfred, Bruce's best friend and father figure is troubled by the return of strange behavior Bruce exhibited when his parents died and doesn't approve of his master's more brutal methods of fighting criminals on the street. Police Captain Jim Gordon lies low, waiting for the inevitable crime war to erupt while his daughter, Barbara is hiding a double life from her father, working as an operative of a hacking network who had discovered the players in the Mob game. **

**In the underworld of Gotham, there is a major crime war brewing between the Black Mask gang and Roman Sionis, an ambitious man with too much optimism as he tried to conquer organized crime in the city. His partner, Brock is a double agent, working for Black Mask as well, with unknown plans of his own. On the flipside and dozens of miles out of town, a teenager, full of angst and starving for adventure is waiting for his moment to shine on a farm while his family tries to keep him boxed in. Rich Grayson needs to break free . . .**

* * *

**Grayson Farm . . .**

"How was school today, Rich?" Mary asked as the family sat at the kitchen table, freshly grilled steak steaming from the plates set out.

Rich swallowed a large gulp of water and sighed. Mary looked at him intensely and Dick leaned in from his side of the table to see his son's face.

"I didn't go."

Mary dropped her fork and it banged against the plate. She groaned and Dick quickly ate a few bites of steak and filled his mouth so he wouldn't be the first to scold their son. Mary shook her head at her cowardly husband and crossed her arms. The two younger twins, both aged 9, looked at Rich and giggled a little bit.

"Oh, shut up." Rich said, beginning to cut up his steak.

"Why didn't you go? _Again_?"

"It's boring, Mom. Same thing. Day in, day out. Wake up, go to school, sit for eight hours, come back. Every week. I'm sick of it."

"You're a junior, Rich. You have one more year of this and then you can forge your own path. But you have to pass high school."

"I will. I have good grades and the teachers love me. Kiss ass and make B's."

"Don't cuss at dinner time, please." Mary said.

"I apologize." Rich said, rolling his eyes and sipping loudly on his glass of water.

Dick continued to chew on the medium-rare meat while the confrontation between mother and son continued. Should've been rare.

* * *

"You're so hard on him. I don't know why he continues to work with you. For free, no less." Alfred told Bruce though the cowl mike.

"Harry loves invading privacy. And the mind. He's compulsive but he means well." Bruce replied as he sat on a gargoyle, watching the sun finally vanish over the horizon.

"I know someone like that." Alfred quipped.

Batman clicked the comms-link off and shook his head as he looked down below, thirty stories of Gotham City and the murky underworld melded with it. He scanned the streets, headlights buzzing by and civilians the size of ants going about their lives. He pulled out his small handheld computer from a pocket in his belt and searched through the latest police calls, searching for anything similar to the Black Mask's criminal dealings. Based on the way things were escalating, with more crimes being committed with more violent measures, Batman knew things were about to come to a head. A war was about to start for the future of Gotham.

* * *

"Dumbwaiter, huh? Dammit. Javier was stupid but he got things done fast." Roman said, smoking a fat Cuban cigar as Brock explained the latest obstacle in the way of Roman's attempt to control organized crime.

"Yep. He's dead. Hotel security says the cameras were out ten minutes before he flew down to the basement. I'll do my best to find him. I promise, boss." Brock said.

Roman breathed in a heavy puff and shook his head before exhaling.

"Nah. We have more couriers. I need you to find some men for a job tonight. A big job."

"What kind of job?" Brock asked as he sat down at the bar beside Roman's office desk and grabbed a green apple from a brass bowl.

"Getting some collateral from a client who's trying to back out. He's got a diamond stash at his store from what I've gathered from a few employees we paid off. I told them we have a few good thieves on payroll."

"Isn't the client supposed to provide collateral _willingly_?" Brock asked.

"Well, he needs a little push. It's the frail German who owns the clothing line... Max Shreck. He's in debt and we promised to help him while the Mafia plans to take him out."

Brock took a bite of the apple and raised an eyebrow.

"Are we going to take on the Mafia now? Like Falcone? Sal Maroni's pyscho group as well?"

Sionis laughed and took another draw from the hundred and fifty dollar cigar. Brock finished chewing and sat the apple on the shining counter while he walked over to the table. He gave a nervous laugh himself and sat down in the swivel chair in front of Roman's desk.

"Do you want to do this now, boss? We have the Black Mask to worry about. Falcone and the rest of the families aren't a threat at the moment, you know?"

Roman raised a finger.

"At the moment, But eventually, it'll come down between us and them. I might as well start getting acquainted."

"You're the boss, boss." Brock said, standing up and grabbing a mint from a small glass dish.

Roman winked at his accomplice and sent him on.

* * *

"I've got security video of a black van stopping at that department store owned by Max Shreck." Alfred blurted through the comms-link as Batman grappled up the side of an apartment building.

"And?"

"Two of the men are wielding SMGs. All wearing masks."

"Alright. I'm heading there now."

Batman flipped onto the roof and scanned the landscape before him. He was 3.2 miles away from the famous department store, Shreck's. He prepared to run across four rooftops without stopping, hoping his momentum would be enough to propel him forward with ease. He broke into a sprint and easily hopped over a series of HVAC vents and stepped across two chimneys without making a sound. He leaped off the metal pipes and shot into the air, his body straight before bending down and doing a barrel roll before continuing the free run. He prepared to jump across the second roof and began his leap until he heard a _whoosh_ behind him and stopped. He turned around, with his fists up against his face, spinning his cape around to increase his chances of swiping an assailant and gaining the upper hand quickly. He whipped his head around and was puzzled as the rooftops were still empty, devoid of life. He heard the wind howl across the cityscape and flicked his eyes all around, desperate to spot a sign of life.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred said after a moment.

"Hm?"

"I've noticed you've stopped. You're not known for stopping in the middle of a run for no reason and I can't spot any possible threat in your area. What's wrong?"

"I'm being watched. Keep a close look on the cameras."

"Of course, sir."

Batman slowly started walking across the roof and in the distance, heard another whoosh. He looked above and spotted a black, slender figure flip onto the water tower on the roof across from him. He quickly pressed his right temple gently, activated the cowl's information-enhanced vision feature, the I.V.F. augmented reality view that flipped a fiber-optic film over Batman's eyes and allowed him to view the world with much greater detail. He zoomed in on the figure as it snaked around the water tower and leaped off. He ran over to the edge of the roof and looked down, his eyes widening as the I.V.F. found the remnants of a heat signature and he received a kick in the face.

He rolled backwards and ducked as a whip cracked above his cowl and he switched off the I.V.F. The figure executed a cartwheel and flipped its legs around Batman's waist, holding his cowl with its hands and lifting his face toward its. The figure kissed him deeply and Batman's grip on her forearms loosened as she moaned with pleasure and finished their kiss.

"Selena..." Batman mumbled.

"How was that, Bruce? Pretty cute, if I do say so myself." Selena Kyle said, flipping off of his waist and placing her goggles on top of her head.

"What are you doing here? I'm busy."

"It's nice to know that I still puzzle Gotham's Dark Knight and his trusty sidekick."

Batman rolled his eyes.

"_Hi, Alfred_." she said loudly so he could hear through the microphone.

"Oh, dear." Alfred said with annoyance.

She smiled at Batman and trailed a red-nailed finger across her bottom lip. She came close to him and bent over, sensually bumping against Batman's groin as she picked up her discarded whip. She placed it on her belt and twisted around on her feet. She placed her hands on her hips and hummed a song that was playing at the dinner party at Wayne Manor. The outfit she wore was sleek, showed off her attractive, slender figure, and was practical as well. It was made for protecting one's self while also being very flexible, as Selena took the idea of a _cat burglar_ to the next level. She wore a half-cowl that went over her head and covered her hair. The cowl left her face visible and Batman couldn't help but feel that he inspired the short cat-like ears placed on top. The outfit was completely black, save for the purple belt that held her whip and two bola weapons used for wrapping around prey.

"I think our identities were in check the other night. Our interplay worked a lot better than the last time, wouldn't you say?" she asked.

"That ruby? I could've sworn I saw Senator Finch wearing one _just _like it a few hours before when I shook her hand. Did you have anything to do with that?" Batman asked.

"People lose rings all the time. How dare you." she said coyly.

Batman turned around, intent on heading to Shreck's.

"But it does fit rather nicely. I was hoping I wouldn't have to get it resized." Selena said to herself before following Batman onto the next rooftop.

"What do you want, Selena? I'd rather not deal with another incident like last month."

"Incident? More like your jealousy manifested in the form of breaking a man's femur for smacking me."

"He was a pimp. He deserved worse for everything he's done."

"So you weren't jealous he was hitting on me? I don't believe that for a second. You were worried about me."

"Go home. I'm busy."

"You've said that twice now. You're _always_ busy. When are we going to have another night like the one in Paris? You may have been nineteen but you were a lot more... giddy back then than last month. Not that it wasn't great, though. I wonder what my girlfriends would think if they knew I've slept with the Batman. Oh, they would never let up."

"What were you doing with Tommy? Take it from me, him and women of a high IQ never mix. He's not the nicest guy to be around." Batman said.

"Not the nicest but certainly one of the richest out here. He had a nice gold watch collection."

Batman grappled across a large gap, seeing the sprites of Gotham underneath, unaware that the city was on the brink of falling apart. Or maybe, they had just given up. Like Selena. She was smarter than most. And yet, she still decided to roam about the higher ups, knowing damn well they would be the first to be destroyed once their corruption and greed bubbled to the surface once investigations started. She had a motive. But it was twisted and unclear. Maybe that was why he liked her.

"You're on a mission. That's not your usual patrol face. You're onto something. Anything I can do to help?" she asked him, popping up like an annoying that wouldn't stop buzzing around your ear.

"No." he replied bluntly.

"Now how did I know that would be your answer?"

Batman sped off, grappling onto a higher building to gain a vantage point. He was a mile away from Shreck's building according to the I.V.F. He climbed on top of the building and pulled out his binoculars from his belt, looking up and down the department store. He heard the light footsteps of Selina behind him and he resisted the urge to hit her with a small dose of knockout fog.

"Two months have passed and you never called me for a follow-up. What is that about? I know you enjoyed yourself. And you have to give me a little credit for figuring out your identity and saving your life and everything. Right?" Selina asked.

Batman remained silent.

"Ugh. You are a locked box, Bruce. I wish you would open up to me." she said, sliding a hand across his chest and feeling the raised bat symbol.

"Don't say my name out here. I'm serious."

"You're always serious. You know what I'm serious about? Getting the big batch of diamonds stored inside Shreck's office."

Selina pointed to the window just above the gigantic Max Shreck cat mascot head that showed much of the Downtown District exactly where his famous store was. Batman zoomed in and was surprised that she was right. His office was right there, a suspiciously big bookcase standing against the wall opposite the large desk where Shreck did all of his business. He put the binoculars away and looked at Selina.

"How would you know anything about Shreck?"

"I'm very good at figuring out rich men and where they store their treasures. Some require extra effort. Old Man Schreck is one of them. I've been staking out the store for the last three weeks. As a temp secretary. He's a nasty old perv."

"Well, there's already a group of thieves in there. Probably after the same thing."

"Not if I beat them to it." Selina said.

"I can't let you do that. I'm trying to prevent a robbery. Not witness one."

"Who would you rather have said prize? A bunch of mobsters or your costumed lover who is _aching_ for your utter devotion." Selina said with a mocking tone.

"Neither. It's his property." Batman said, preparing his grapple gun for a jump across the busy city streets below.

"The man's worth thirty million. What's a few diamonds to him?"

"A few diamonds." Batman replied bluntly.

Before Selina could let out another smart comment, the two of them heard glass shatter and the sound of men screaming on the streets below. Selina ran over to the side of the building, looking down and seeing the mobsters' van parked at the docking area around the backside of Shreck's. She watched as one of them knocked out a security guard by butting him with their SMG. She winced and bent down, putting on her goggles and flicking a small lever on the right lens. Batman heard the flicker of the telescopic lens and bent down beside her, looking at her unique setup.

"How did you get such expensive equipment?" he asked.

"A few _diamonds_."

Selina flipped off the building and soared through the frigid air, taking out her whip and wrapping it against a flagpole. Batman watched as one of the mobsters noticed and aimed his weapon as she fell to the ground. Batman drew a batarang and prepared to attack but Selina dove at him, feet first. Her heels collided with his face and knocked him out. She whipped around his waist and held his body up, bringing him slowly to the ground so the other mobsters weren't alerted.

"Dammit." Batman muttered.

He jumped off of the roof and released his glider cape, soaring safely to the ground and landing silently behind Selina. She searched for anything of value in his pockets while Batman scanned his face with the I.V.F. Selina leaned in, seeing the glowing white in his eyes as the computer chip implanted in the cowl's tech cortex scanned online articles, police reports, and digital news clippings. He found a match after a few moments. His name was Luke Johnson. A felon with a history of being associated with the Maroni crime family. He was put in prison twice for tax evasion and conspiracy to commit murder. Seemed to fit the Black Mask's type of men. Selena pulled out his money clip happily took the thick stack of bills and slipped them inside a belt compartment.

"Really?" Batman asked as he moved on the door.

"Three hundred dollars will get me a new watch, Bruce. Idiot shouldn't carry money with on a job anyhow. He doesn't deserve it."

Batman looked around, seeing the door that had been opened with a pick, and looked around the van for any clues. He opened the door and sniffed the air, smelling distinct cigar smoke and found a burnt-out remnant in the ash tray. _Sloppy. _He thought. He picked it up and sniffed the edge of the burned end, breathing in the minty and slightly baked smell. He wasn't a smoker, but he knew the smell of exotic and rare cigars after being in enough business meetings with executives and CEOs for years now. Selena leaped around the other side of the van, picking up a pistol and clicking the hammer back. Batman flicked his eyes up at her and watched her feel the edges of the snub-nosed, high-caliber weapon.

"Would you mind leaving that? Evidence." Batman said.

"No fun." she replied, tossing the gun into the backseat.

"Why don't you go bother someone else. It's not going to pretty in a few minutes."

"I don't mind getting my hands dirty, Brucey. You should know that."

Batman placed the cigar back into its holder after rubbing the burnt end in a small plastic cube case and sticking the few remnants inside his belt. He aimed high with the grapple gun and fired the trigger, the cable flinging into the air and the three-pronged fanged device hitching itself against the stone ledge on the edge of the roof. Batman connected the back piece of the gun against his belt and folded the gun itself into a holster-like position. He pressed a button in the middle of his belt and zipped up the top of the building. He ripped the fangs out of the ledge and with swift muscle memory, slid the grapple gun into three pieces and put them back into place. A few moments later, Selena emerged at the sun roof, looking down at the office below. She clicked her tongue and snapped a finger at Batman. He looked down at her fingerless gloved hand and saw the man below, wielding a flashlight and a big ASP baton. He walked quickly around the red-carpeted office, scanning underneath every chair and wallside table. He flipped over the big desk in the center of the room and tossed the books and picture frames into the air. They watched as the man smashed a glass bookcase open and swiping the contents inside.

"Stay here." he said.

He quickly opened the window slowly, the glass barely making a sound as he slid the window into the pane. Selena backed up and craned her neck over the edge of the window, smiling as she prepared to watch her crush work his magic. He jumped down, his cape barely making a flutter in the winter air as he soared down to the room below. Batman landed silently, letting his cape fill up with air and let him down gently. He watched as the masked man raised the baton again, eyeing an expensive vase and preparing for a satisfying swing. Batman caught his arm and scared the man, silencing his scream by placing his other hand over his mouth. He threw him to the ground and held his head horizontal, inches from the ground. Batman removed the ski mask and saw the man's eyes bright with fear.

"Who are you working for? The Black Mask?" he asked.

"What? No!" the man said through Batman's hand.

"Who?"

The man remained silent, a regretful whimper coming through his voice before he turned his eyes away.

The door opened wider and another masked man saw Batman in the darkness, holding onto the man. Batman grunted and tossed a batarang into his shoulder, bringing the man to his knees. He screamed and Batman jumped up, grabbing him by his throat and slamming his head into the doorway and knocking him out. Batman felt a big force of air rush by him and saw Selina silently sprinting across the hallway and taking out a guard with her whip. The leather wrapped around the man's neck and she pulled hard, throwing the man to the ground. She kicked him in the jaw and he twisted around as slobber flew from his bloody mouth. She quickly used her goggles to scan for any other signs of life nearby before returning to the bookcase as Batman tried to interrogate the frightened man.

"Penguin? Maroni?"

The man stammered with unintelligible words spilling out and Batman was losing patience. He applied pressure to one of his suspended arms and the man squirmed, kicking the ground as he felt his arm about to snap. Batman shook him and growled as the man started to drool in fear.

"Who's your boss?"

"He'll find me and kill me. It doesn't matter what jail I go to! I can't!"

"Well..." Batman muttered.

"Be glad this isn't your dominant arm."

"Wha-? Ahhhhh!" the man yelled as Batman expertly broke the man's arm at the elbow, letting the limp appendage hit the carpet as Batman grabbed his shoulder, almost not even actively being aware of his actions.

He pulled the man's arm out of his socket and threw the man over his head, slamming him on the desk.

"What the hell are you doing?" Selena yelled, rushing over from the bookcase and holding her hands on her hips.

"He wouldn't talk. Let's see if that tone changes now."

"You probably put him into shock. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Batman ignored her question and returned to the severely injured man, who was muttering to himself as he rocked in the fetal position. Batman hoisted him up and grabbed him by his hair, looking deep into his eyes and pulling his other forearm close to his throat. The sharp three points that were located on his forearm gauntlets were inches from the man's throat and Batman pushed them closer, the blades slicing the epidermis when the man gulped.

"Talk." Batman said.

"Or you won't be able to."

The man sighed deeply and shook his head.

"Roman Sionis. The big-wig who owns the cosmetics business."

"Oh, shit. Romey?" Selena replied, appearing out of nowhere behind the man's head.

"Yeah. I'm so dead now." he said.

"Not yet. What was he sending you to Max Schreck's for?"

"To get some diamonds since he didn't pay up for protection this month. And scare the shit out of him."

"Where is he right now? Where does he operate?"

"It's always at a different place. We've never actually met him but that's the rumor. People know things."

"When are you supposed to be delivering Schreck's diamonds."

The man hesitated again and Batman pushed his arm deeper into his neck. The man gasped loudly and flinched when Batman shoved the gauntlets further into his skin.

"Icanooska docks. Tomorrow at midnight sharp. There's a ship coming in."

"More rhino horn?" Batman asked.

"I honestly don't know. I swear to God."

"Thank you for your time."

Batman locked eyes with Selina as she reached over and slipped the wallet out of the man's jacket pocket. He shook his head and pulled out a small dart from his belt and sticking it in the man's neck. The man grunted and wiggled around before Batman dropped him and he crawled to the exit door of the office. Within four steps, he collapsed and passed out on the floor.

"With all of the skills you have... and you resort to stealing things like a petty thief." he said to her as she walked over to the safe.

"With all of the skills you have... and you resort to dressing up like a flying rodent. Shut up."

"You called Sionis 'Romey'. History?" Batman as she leaned into the safe and started the spin the dial on the lock.

"I knew him a few years ago. Before he really got into the clothing business. He was simple enough. Had some anger issues but I didn't think he could lead a criminal empire. But I've been wrong before. What's your next step?" she asked.

After silence for a moment, she turned around, watching Batman release a smoke bomb in front of her and she felt the slight sting of a needle shoved into her neck. She laughed as she felt his presence pick her up and felt the world melt away as she fell into a deep sleep.

"You sly little..." she exclaimed before falling asleep.


	10. Skeletons

"She really likes you." Alfred said as Bruce hopped out from the gigantic and technologically impressive Batwing and took off his cowl.

Alfred leaned into Bruce's face as he passed, noticing the bright red lipstick that stuck out around Bruce's stubbled face. He decided not to mention it. With a master as stern and brooding as Bruce Wayne, some levity was always needed in the cave. Bruce walked straight over to the plexiglass suit chamber and executed the suit separation. When he stepped out, he finally felt the thickness of lipstick on his lips and wiped it away.

"She's a distraction." he said.

"Maybe that's what you need. Take a break from beating up felons and breaking bones. Was that really necessary by the way?"

"Is this going to be a nightly activity now? Judging my techniques?" Bruce asked.

"Breaking bones to always get information is a very poor technique. Gets old. Torture isn't known for being the best interrogation tool."

"It's one of the quickest. God. You and Selina should stage an intervention together."

"You're so bloody stubborn, Master Bruce. You're lucky my killing days are over."

Alfred watched Bruce slick his short hair back and prepare a fresh dossier on Roman Sionis. Bruce activated a program that auto filled a lot of information on the man; his birth certificate, any civil or criminal offenses, and facial recognition scans. Bruce watched the information fill the computer screen and started searching for connections by looking up crimes committed by former or current employees of his business.

"You really think he's part of the Mob? Or even leading it?" Alfred asked.

"Possibly. He's rich enough to have influence. And our little encounter in the study doesn't help his case. He wants weapons to fight Black Mask and end the gang war. His man told me there's a shipment coming in tomorrow at midnight and it's not more rhino horn. He's getting desperate for ways to pay for his weapons. Those diamonds were probably his last chance to have enough. Whatever is coming at midnight won't be good. I need to be there. Set up ahead of time." Bruce said.

"Desperate times..." Alfred replied.

"Roman is dangerous. He doesn't know how to hibernate anymore. Too much tension on the streets."

"I know. There's a volcano right in the middle of Gotham and he keeps tossing fire into it."

"He tried to use Freeze's tech and now he wants Wayne Enterprises to help develop God knows what. I have to stop that cargo ship from coming in or we could have a third party waging war. That's the last thing I need."

* * *

"What the hell happened?" a booming voice yelled from the inside office of the abandoned Queen Industries warehouse.

The metal walls banged loudly when a fist collided with the metal and two of the Black Mask's men flinched with surprise. They looked at each other and backed up from the closed door. Inside, the Black Mask roared loudly and started kicking the side of his desk, denting it and tossing all of the contents off of the top. His partner, smoking a cigarette by the dusty window while trying to get his head away from the debris of papers, broken plastic, and anger pouring from his associate. Brock sucked in a deep ball of smoke and shot it out through his teeth as he waited for the temper tantrum to end. Black Mask kicked his trash can until the heavy duty plastic warped and finally snapped. Brock crossed his arms and stared at Black Mask.

"It seems that Javier couldn't keep his mouth shut. I'm sorry, but I tried. I'm just one man." Brock said.

"How many did he talk to? Estimate?" Black Mask asked, wiping the sweat from underneath the matte black ceramic two-piece costume that kept his identity a secret.

"At least ten people. Hoodlums are telling their drug buddies that some loot is going to be at the docks. It's going to be a shit show. It's going to be us, Sionis, and a bunch of idiots. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? We'll have another window once they leave the docks. We can get a choke point once they try to cut onto the interstate."

"No. We have to do it now. We can't risk them running off into the sunset." Black Mask replied.

Brock shook his head and looked out the window, seeing the broken up skyline of Old Gotham. The abandoned factories resembled the skeletons of giants, dead and half buried in a forgotten land. The one remaining factory, a smelting plant along the Industrial District, pumped out black smoke from a brick chimney that swirled into the dark orange skies and vanished into a stringy mist. Every time he road into Old Gotham to meet the Mask, he felt sickened, literally. The toxins floating in the air turned his stomach and made his eyes glassy. He needed to smoke just to surround himself with a tobacco force field. But, the Mask's men and the Mask himself were immune to it. It made them crazy. They didn't feel remorse or much pain for that matter. Mostly, all they felt was rage.

"Any new recruits?" Brock asked as he finished the cigarette.

"Three more. Two mercenaries and a former Penguin guy. I had Alexis fill them in."

Brock stopped moving. That toxin feeling stirred in his stomach once again. He hated Alexis. The big, bad bodyguard who tried to one-up Brock whenever they went on operations. The stupid dyke who was constantly vying for Black Mask's approval and always working to convince Mask that Brock wasn't needed. He fought the urge to insult her but paused, only nodding briefly and pulling out a cigarette. Black Mask looked at him and laughed. Brock slowly slipped the brown cigarette out of the 24 package and raised an eyebrow.

"Since when do you smoke, man?" he asked.

"Always. You're just too busy throwing shit around to notice."

"What's crawled up your ass?"

"Nothing. Just nervous about tomorrow."

"I feel like the tide is about to turn. We have enough men finally. We have the weapons and Sionis doesn't know what to do. He's rushing. We've cut the brakes off the hype train and he's trying to make a sharp turn. Things are changing, Brock. I can feel it." Black Mask said, motioning a turn with his hands.

"You're the boss, boss."

"Alexis also found out that the ship is hooked with biometrics and a full security force. Whatever is on there... it's something more than just guns and some bullets."

"How does she know?"

"She used some satellite images and studied the ship shape. She has connections inside Wayne Enterprises-." he began before Brock scoffed.

"Oh, who doesn't?"

Black Mask frowned at his partner and crossed his arms before continuing.

"The ship is coming from a port just off of South Africa. The South Africans have beefed up their technology after the Amazo attack. They are armed with EMP devices and a specially trained security team trained by Israeli commandos and Russian operatives."

"So how in the hell are we going to take them out?"

"We have an EMP cannon too." Black Mask said with a smile.

"Where?"

"In the basement. It still needs some work. I need a guy who knows this stuff like the back of his hand. Someone who did this kind of work. We don't have the smarts and can't afford to pay some scientist off to help us. I remember you talking about your old team. That Ward guy. The one who worked at Amertek."

"Oh. Dick Ward. I don't know, boss. He got wrapped up with some bad shit when I left. F.B.I. took him and his family under witness protection. I won't deny that he'd be the guy to get through those biometrics but he could be in another country for all I know. We'd never find him and if we could, it would never be before tomorrow night."

Black Mask walked over to his messy desk and scooted a broken CD case off of his laptop. He opened it up and quickly pulled up a picture that was pulled from security footage. On screen, Brock saw an older, grayer Dick Ward walking through the shopping center of a small town. He leaned in and looked back at his boss in disbelief.

"How'd you find him?" he asked.

"Alexis is a genius with Google."

That acidic feeling sizzled in Brock's lower abdomen again.

"He's alive. And he lives 20 miles out of town."

"That's it? What does he do now?"

"Farmer." Black Mask laughed.

"How humble for a former thief." Brock snickered.

"So,"

"How's a reunion sound?"


End file.
